


It Was Always You

by mltrefry



Series: It Was Always You [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: "nice guy" Gabriel, Alternate Universe - Human, Aziraphale is Ezra Fell, Biphobia, Eventual Romance, Flashbacks, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Homophobia, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Kid Fic, M/M, Mild Angst, Not Beta Read, One-Sided Attraction, Pansexual Crowley (Good Omens), Pining, Romance, Slow Burn, Tadfield, a little bit of book omens sprinkled in, but only by one specific character who gets very little 'screen time', demi sexual aziraphale, references to the show, situation appropriate angst, tadfield is a city
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-13
Updated: 2020-06-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:33:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 40
Words: 236,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22701799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mltrefry/pseuds/mltrefry
Summary: A chance encounter during one of the worst times of Ezra Fell’s life reunites him with his once best friend and the one who got away. Though, that would imply he ever had him in the first place.Anthony Crowley and his son, Warlock, relocate to the quieter city of Tadfield from that of London. In the process, manages to find again that one person who always made him feel less alone, the one person he was pretty sure he was never going to speak to again.But the road to true love never did run smooth (something that’s been true from their very beginning). Despite the easy way they fall back into each other, their lives don't seem to follow suit, and if it's not one challenge its another. But despite everything they find themselves facing down, the ten years without each other taught them one thing: they’re better together than they are apart.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Background Anathema Device/Newton Pulsifer, gabriel/aziraphale (one sided)
Series: It Was Always You [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1765738
Comments: 1155
Kudos: 503
Collections: Good Omens Human AUs





	1. Get Back In My Life

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my Ineffable Husbands Human AU, a departure from my normal brand of AU. Here we find a love story taking place over twenty years, mostly taking place in 2019 (though flashbacks will happen)  
> There is one specific character who is going to be an asshole (it's not Gabriel. Shocking, I know). This character is biphobic/homophobic, and chapters in which they feature will be marked.  
> Tags will be added as the come up.   
> I don't know how often I will update, but I'm going to try for once a week. Now, on with the show.

“Can we go to the park?”

Ezra Fell was brought back into awareness by the simple question posed to him by his nephew, Adam. He looked down at the curly-haired boy who stared back with wide, pleading eyes.

It was Saturday, the last Saturday they both had before returning to what was as close to their normal lives as they would ever get again. In some ways, it felt like the first Saturday after the world had ended, in others like it was like the first day of a new life. But that was mostly because Ezra was maudlin, having not slept much if at all the night before.

And, he supposed, it wasn’t like he was going to get any sleep now, so what was the harm in allowing Adam some semblance of normal.

“Yes,” Ezra agreed, and Adam was already up and scrambling to head for the entryway where his shoes and coats were.

Ezra rose from the sofa, taking with him his book which had been sitting untouched in his lap.

“How long can we stay?” Adam asked as he pulled on his lace-less trainers.

“I’m not sure,” Ezra replied, though with the weather being very agreeable, it was very likely that they would be there for a few hours. Adam had been cooped up inside for one reason or another for the last two weeks, and for a four-year-old, he’d been quite cooperative.

And resilient. If there was one thing that Ezra had been the proudest of when it came to his nephew, these days it was his way of bouncing back from heartbreak and tragedy.

Ezra putting on his well-worn jacket: an antique beige jacket from sometime in the 1800s he’d found in a thrift store for an absolute steal. He slipped on his shoes, brown leather dress shoes he had re-soled once a year. He made sure he had his wallet, his glasses should he discover he need them and grabbed his keys to stuff in the pocket with the book.

Adam put on his jacket; a bright red thing that would keep him just warm enough in the late May weather without causing him to sweat. Once the jacket was on, Ezra ruffled the boy’s dark blonde, curly hair, then opened the door and waved him out the flat. He locked up, making sure it was secure before he followed Adam down the stairs and around to the street. As they walked past the storefront of the second-hand bookshop the flat was housed above, Adam took Ezra’s hand without prompting.

It was fairly early, something Ezra hadn’t considered when fulfilling Adam’s request. The city of Tadfield, located between Oxford and London, was still fairly quiet. It hadn’t woken up from its Friday night hoopla, there being very few cars and next to no people on the sidewalk as they made their way to the spot Adam favored.

With only one way in (without climbing a massive, wrought iron fence), the East Tadfield Park was a lovely spot. There was a football field near the very back of it, behind a small coup of trees that hid it and its stadium benches from the general public. There were jogging trails, something that Ezra had been made well aware of numerous times by a very persistent friend. There was a duck pond in the far left corner from the entrance, and many gardens throughout for those who just want to be among the greenery. And, near the playground to the right of the entrance, was a well-placed coffee stand.

Ezra had been thinking about that as they ambled along, imagining the simple pleasure he may get from a steaming cup of tea, perhaps a scone or a danish, and reading a book while Adam played. It would be very, very close to the way things used to be when he would watch him for a weekend and they would do this very thing on a nice day.

“Uncle Ezra, look! Look at the car!” Adam said, tugging on his hand and hopping about, pointing at an antique-looking black car parked on the side of the road beside the park entrance. It was one of only three sitting idle, but the look of it -long and sleek and not of the era- made it would have made it stick out.

“It’s very interesting.” Ezra agreed with the boy. “Looks a little too new to be a true old vehicle, though.”

Adam didn’t seem to be listening at this point, his interest diverted to something in the trees overhead. Which, really, was for the best. Ezra’s knowledge of vehicles was extremely limited, boiled down to the basics of the key going into the ignition, and petrol was needed to keep them going. Anything else was taken care of by an annual servicing, and since he hadn’t ever found a need to own one himself, it was pretty much just what he recalled his mum telling him as a teenager.

They turned into the park, quiet except for the sound of a passing jogger on the path, and the distant shift of the playground equipment. Adam remained at Ezra’s side diligently, keeping pace despite clearly wanting to make a run for it.

“There’s another kid there,” He said, tugging at Ezra’s hand while they slowed on their approach to the coffee stand.

“That’s excellent,” he smiled down at his nephew. “Perhaps you can make a friend.”

“Hey Mr. Fell,” the young employee greeted him with a smile as he came up to the window.

“Mr. Nolan, what a pleasant surprise. How are you, how was your break?” He asked.

“Wasn’t bad,” his student asked, smile shifting after a moment. “I’m sorry for your loss. It went around the school why you were gone the week before break.”

Ezra’s smile faltered. “Thank you, Mr. Nolan.” And then before the young man could carry on the topic, he asked, “Would I be able to get a cup of tea, and one of those raspberry scones, please.” He then turned to his nephew. “Would you like anything, Adam?”

“No, thank you.” He replied eyes focused straight ahead at the playground.

Ezra looked to his student, “Perhaps an apple juice for later.” He asked.

The young man looked to Adam with a slight furrow of his brow, then to Ezra, and smiled in a confused little way before going to fill Ezra’s order.

Well, that would take away from the talk of his family loss, now the entire student body will be wondering if he had a son, and if so, then how.

He paid the young man after getting his good, and once they were in hand, Adam took that as his cue to take off. Ezra followed at a slower pace, his eyes focused on Adam as he watched him run between the concrete tables with their matching benches, ignoring the ginger person sitting at one of them.

Something like a pang whipped through Ezra as he remembered a fellow he once knew with a similar shade, who also happened to like wearing blacks and grays. Who was also slender.

A reminder of another thing lost. It was best he brought his book after all.

Ezra settled at the other table, eyes scanning the equipment for Adam as he disappeared for a moment, resurfacing at the top of one section to catch up with the dark-haired child who was already there.

“Stay where I can see you, Adam.” He called, a reminder to stay where he was more than anything else. There were enough trees about that he could hide easily, and Ezra knew he wouldn’t be able to handle losing sight of him during an impromptu game of hide-and-seek. He grinned at his nephew, seeming to have found a playmate for the morning, then settled on the bench.

He’d just removed his scone from its brown, paper bag when he heard the very quiet, very disbelieving, “Ezra?”

He turned to the man at the other table, the only other adult at the park, the voice a little too familiar.

He was utterly taken aback by the sight before him. “Oh,” he gasped. “Anthony?”

He couldn’t imagine the odds. After so many years of seeing tall, slender ginger men around the city, and occasionally on his popovers to London, he had long come to expect the disappointment at finding a stranger instead of his long-lost friend. To find him now, in Tadfield East Park, seemed utterly ridiculous.

He’d changed just enough to not be recognizable at first. For one, Anthony had always had shorter hair, styled in such a lazy way that was always considered cool. Now he sported longer locks, his natural wave coming through in the ends. It was half up at the moment, a small knot or bun at the back where it was tied. There were also a pair of very fancy sunglasses covering his very unique eyes, and the arm of those glasses.

“Holy shit,” Anthony said softly, nothing but surprise in his tone, and Ezra barked out a laugh with equal feeling. Anthony turned sharply toward the jungle gym, then sharply back. “You? You’re?” he pointed toward the equipment.

“I’m here with the little blonde boy, yes.” He nodded. “And you, you’re?”

“My son, Lock, yeah,” Anthony replied like he still wasn’t sure this was real. He shook his head. “I can’t… how long have you been here?”

“About five minutes,” Ezra replied with a smirk, and Anthony grinned.

“Not-, Tadfield. How long have you been here in Tadfield?”

“Oh, about five, almost six years, now.” He replied. “How about you?”

“We just moved here from London earlier in the week,” Anthony replied, the disbelief returning. “I… my shop. I… I have a shop here. I… I work from it more than I do London.” He explained.

“Oh,” Ezra perked up. “Well, that’s lovely. I think you’ll like it here. It’s not as busy as London, admittedly. It’s just above a town in size, sort of a very small city. Nightlife might leave something to be desired, of course, but-”

“When did you get married?” Anthony interrupted.

Ezra wasn’t sure it was because he was babbling, his hands were flapping about in that way they did when he rambled or was nervous (or was nervously rambling, which he was _not_ , of course), or if it was because some part of Anthony’s brain still hadn’t caught up to their present situation. Ezra didn’t need to see his eyes to know they were wide, still filled with surprise, and half unfocused. They were, at one point, best friends. Had been until about eight years before, no more than ten.

It took a second for Ezra to realize what Anthony had asked him. “Oh.” He frowned. “I’m not. Why would you think I was?”

Anthony stared at him a moment before gesturing broadly in the direction of the boys who were playing quite happily together.

Ezra looked at the boys, then back at Anthony, pursing his lips as his frown deepened.

“He looks like you did when we were kids,” Anthony explained. “Least from what I saw as he ran by.”

“Oh,” Ezra understood. “Oh, he’s not… he’s not mine. Well, I suppose he is now.” He added sadly. “He is, was, I mean…. Eliza’s his mother. But she passed.”

“What?” Anthony said, before shaking his head. “I mean, sorry. I’m so sorry. Oh, Ezra, you… I can’t imagine, I’m so sorry.”

“Thank you.” He managed, then remembered he had tea that might help to wash away the sudden lump in his throat.

“How… how did she… when?” Anthony stammered, and he reached up to remove the sunglasses.

Ezra wasn’t sure what brought the tears to his eyes: the still raw grief of losing his sister, or the beautiful sight of Anthony’s eyes. A pale, near-golden brown with a spot at the top and bottom of each eye, perfectly aligned with the pupil. He could understand the need for shades, Anthony’s eyes would draw a double-take, almost looking like snake eyes if one looked quick enough. Ezra remembered it had been a common lament of his friend when they were younger.

He missed them.

“About two weeks ago,” he replied, just a little watery. “Car accident. She and the man she’d been seeing, they were taking a trip up North,” Ezra gave a weak smile. “Gavin had asked me for permission to marry her, and he was going to propose.” He sniffed, clearing his throat. “The police aren’t sure what caused the accident. It’s possible Gavin lost control of the car, or there was an animal in the road. But either way, the vehicle… it was horrendous, I’m told.”

“I’m so sorry, truly.” He shook his head, looking at the boys again before turning back to Ezra. “Your mum must have taken it hard.”

“Mum’s been gone about four years now, just before Adam turned one.”

“Fuck,” Anthony said, shaking his head. “That is the worst. What about… his dad?” Anthony asked, looking at the boys.

Ezra followed his gaze, and his heart was momentarily lifted by seeing Adam’s smile, hearing his laugh as he and Lock played a game of some sort.

“Not in the picture,” Ezra replied. “He never was.” Anthony nodded in understanding. Which, of course, had made Ezra wonder about his situation. “What about Lock’s mum? Or… other dad?”

Anthony smirked. “She’s, uh… not in the picture, either. Not-not that I _wanted_ her in the picture, or anything. She, umm, we, uh… it doesn’t matter. Point is, she’s not in Lock’s life. Just the two of us.”

There was a lull of silence between the two of them, and Ezra belatedly realized his heart was hammering. Had it been like that since the moment he realized Anthony Crowley was there, one table over? Or had it begun to race as they began speaking, how telling this man who was both a total stranger and the one person left who knew -truly knew- who he was about his recent heartbreak.

And when had they locked eyes? When had they begun to hold each other’s gaze?

Looking down, Ezra had suddenly remembered he had food.

Without hesitation, he broke off a bit of his scone and stuffed it in his mouth, focusing his attention on Adam and Lock for a while, finding it charming that the two of them took to each other so quickly.

In his periphery, he noted Anthony getting up, moving somewhere behind him. Probably to the coffee cart, and a quick glance over his shoulder confirmed it. He bowed his head back over his breakfast, realizing only now that in his early fog of fatigue that he’d fed Adam but not himself.

He ate without savoring, a crime in his own books, and by the time he had finished, Anthony was returning. To his great surprise, he settled in next to Ezra, leaving enough space between them that their elbows shouldn’t bump overmuch. It almost felt like being pressed up together, given how long it had been since they were in each other’s presence.

There was a companionable silence between them, and Ezra couldn’t help but side-eye Anthony. And, he realized, Anthony was doing the same with him from time to time. His sunglasses were perched on top of his head, having probably put them back on to order and removed them to a point when he returned. They would smile shyly (or slyly, as Anthony often looked) at each other when they were caught, but would just take a sip of their drink, turn to the boys, then start the whole thing over.

“So, what have you been up to? Tell me about this shop you mentioned.” Ezra said, shifting himself a bit more toward Anthony.

“Oh, well,” Anthony stammered a little. “Garden. It’s called the Garden, uh…. Dad… he wouldn’t release my trust fund to me. Still hadn’t proved myself… to his liking, I guess. So, I earned money doing gardening work. Seemed better than trying to earn experience interning with one of the companies in London, certainly better paid. I worked for a really well-to-do family until,” He paused, his face turning a deep red. “Well, until I didn’t. Made enough to buy a small little hole in the wall shop in Soho. Turned it around, made it a thing. Still did the arrangements and whatnot, but sold actual plants, too. Herb plants, a few dwarf fruit trees, basic houseplants, too. Did really well, coulda gone on just being there forever and probably wouldn’t have wanted for anything. Then, well, not long after Warlock he gave me my trust, and I knew I wanted bigger. Something like a nursery. Couldn’t do that in London, not the size I wanted, so I found a spot out here.”

“Eliza was very fond of The Garden, so I’m aware it does well.”

“Liza was a customer, was she?”

“Much as she could be.” Ezra nodded.

“Huh,” Anthony said, looking over at the boys a moment. “So, anyway, yeah. It’s… that’s my shop. I worked out there most days, back in the greenhouse, or doing arrangements. Started to hate living in London, and with Lock, well….”

“You called him Warlock earlier.”

“Yeah, that’s his first name. Call him Lock most of the time.”

Ezra hummed in understanding, though he admittedly had some questions about the name. He let it go, for now. He could feel something building here, something delicate on firm foundations long-buried and only just being uncovered.

“Your parents must be pleased to have a grandchild at least,” Ezra added, a smirk curling his lips in spite of himself. “Your father especially, what with the ever so coincidental timing of you getting your trust fund just as your son is born. He was always very set in the belief of what it takes to be a _real_ man. Must have been _overjoyed_ with the fact that you followed the proper urges and reproduced.”

Anthony snorted. “He was bloody over the moon. Thinking I was all straightened out. No pun intended.”

“I do recall you saying in University that he was overly concerned with your ‘behaving in unpredictable ways and hanging around the wrong sorts’.”

“Mmm,” Anthony said as he took a sip of his coffee. “Yeah, that was how he put it, alright. Mind, that started well before I left home.”

“He never did like me,” Ezra said, unfazed.

“Still wouldn’t.”

“Quite right,” Ezra agreed. “As I am still very much the ‘wrong sort’.”

“Not any of the better sort myself,” Anthony mumbled against the lip of his coffee cup.

Ezra looked him over, feeling his heart warm up and sigh as he took in Anthony’s profile. “So, you said Lock’s mother isn’t in the picture, but you never said if you had a partner.”

“Not anymore,” Anthony replied, setting his cup back down, rolling it between his hands. “Was seeing a bloke for a bit, but wasn’t anything terribly serious, and with the move? Just easier to call it off.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Ezra said, and if there was a small, quiet part of him that was lying, it didn’t matter.

The sad thing was when it came to Anthony, it never did.

“Don’t be.” Anthony shrugged. “What about you? Not married, but seeing anyone?”

“No,” Ezra laughed. “No, I’ve been single for a while now.”

“How is _that_ possible?” Anthony asked, and Ezra shook his head at the tease.

“You and I both know I was never what anyone might call fit, but it seems I’ve only gotten softer with age.” He said, glancing down at the pudge that accumulated over the years. A sweater vest over his typical button-up tended to hide it somewhat, but it was there, all the same, made more obvious by sitting. “I’m hardly anyone’s type.”

“You’ve always been too hard on yourself,” Anthony chided gently. “There was that loud American in university, the one that took a shine to you, what was his name?”

“Gabriel,” Ezra said, hoping the heat he felt didn’t reflect in his cheeks.

“Yeah, Gabe. I believe you called him-”

“Please, don’t,” Ezra asked earnestly, and Anthony laughed.

“Alright, but you see my point, yeah? He fancied you. Lots of blokes and even a few oblivious women fancied you plenty.” He commented.

“Can we change the subject, please?”

“You brought it up.”

“I asked if you had a paramour, not to rehash bygone days.” Ezra pointed out, taking a sip of his cooling tea.

“Suppose.” Anthony agreed.

He sighed with relief; glad they weren’t about to head right for the rocky waters of their past. No need to spoil a perfectly pleasant morning with all that nonsense.

~C~

_Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!_

It had been a mantra of Crowley’s almost the entire time since being unexpectedly reunited with one Ezra Fell.

When he wasn’t screaming that single word in the void of his mind, there was also _still lovely and bright, fuck me this is actually happening,_ and _I_ _’m an idiot_.

He didn’t think anything so world-shifting would happen when he got up that morning. Warlock had woken him up, having slept in Crowley’s bed the night before, the house still new and unfamiliar, the boxes mostly packed except for the very bare essentials. The little guy had been hungry, but of course, having nothing really ready to go, and no proper food in the new house, Crowley decided breakfast out was in order. A quick search on his phone showed a coffee cart in a park about a mile from the house. The park had a playground.

Well, he was hoping that maybe Warlock would go down for a nap later in the day, and what better way to better the odds than to have him run about in the fresh air. The weather was fine, a first for the last week, and so there really wasn’t any reason not to go ahead with the idea.

He loaded him into the Bentley, a custom-made car that looks like a 1930s model on the outside, but had all the accommodations of a modern vehicle. They drove the mile, a distance that seemed a little pointless now, but would come in handy later when the worn-out Warlock would’ve whined about needing to walk.

They had muffins, and when the pastry was gone, Warlock took off for the alluring jungle gym.

Not long after, no more than five minutes after they’d finished, another little boy tore past Crowley, and he prepared himself to spend a bit longer than anticipated by pulling out his phone to entertain himself.

And then he heard it. The voice that lingered in his dreams and that he never really thought he’d hear again.

He’d been almost scared to say anything, but his name fell from his lips like it had been perched there. In some ways, it was, having never left them, not really.

“Ezra,”

“Oh, Anthony.” Ezra gasped, staring at him as if he wasn’t sure he was real.

“Holy shit.” Anthony had said, and the laugh that came from Ezra was like warm sun after a long, cold winter. It was real, it was pleased, and it had meant those three typed words in an email forever saved in Anthony’s inbox had been real.

 _I forgive you_.

He had never dared follow up on it, even if it seemed he was allowed to. He’d realized what an ass he’d been to the man he considered his best friend, to the one person who had always been in his corner and seemed to care for him unconditionally. Who may have even loved him in that same way. But he wasn’t brave, not when it came to his heart, not back then.

But now?

He still wasn’t brave, but he was trying to be. Trying to muster the nerve to make sure this very tentative connection could remain. It was too soon for all his buried affections to rise from the earth, but they were coming back regardless of what Crowley wanted. They didn’t care that there were years of history that the other wasn’t part of. Crowley had a child now, one with parentage that he had to keep very, very quiet. Hell, _Ezra_ had a child now, in a way. And he’d lost all his family, all that remained with the exception of Adam.

Yet despite that, he still seemed very much the Ezra Crowley knew. He still dressed like a man much older than he was, still spoke in that posh way, with fussy manners. He still had that wit, that ability to make a subtle dig that anyone who didn’t see his less angelic side believe was a state of fact or quiet sort of compliment.

Crowley wanted desperately to be back in his orbit, to have more mornings like this.

He’d have to be careful, though. He already came too close to a sore spot, bringing up Gabriel.

“So, does Adam go to nursery?” He asked. A safe topic, bringing things back to the boys. Kids were always a safe topic, Crowley found, when speaking to other parents. And while Ezra wasn’t exactly Adam’s parent, he was filling that role now, and knowing the Fells, he likely had a pretty big part in Adam’s upbringing from the get-go.

“He does,” Ezra confirmed, any wilting of that brilliant, bright mood of his automatically fading as he grinned. “Little Duck, not far from here.”

“Little Duck!” Crowley crowed. “That’s where Warlock’s going, starting Monday.” He grinned, all teeth. “What about his primary? Where’s he going?”

Ezra wilted again, just a little. “He’s been accepted in Tadfield East Elementary.” He replied, still grinning but much less so. “Eliza was quite pleased, what with it being not too far.”

 _Shit_.

“Warlock’s going there, too,” Crowley said, still pleased but much more subdued. “He was a bit sad about starting a new nursery with only a few months to go, then worried about starting school in general. ‘Course now,” Crowley said, turning back to the boys as they ran about, smiling and laughing, whatever game they were playing agreeing with them both.

“Yes, I do recall big changes being easier to take when you made a friend,” Ezra replied with a smirk, peeking at Crowley from the corner of his eye.

“Be something else, wouldn’t it? The boys being best friends, too? Next-generation of Crowleys and Fells?” Crowley said with a smile, trying his damnedest to mask the tremor that came up the second he realized what he said.

“Too?” Ezra asked, and Crowley prayed to someone, anyone, that he hadn’t misheard the hope in Ezra’s voice.

“Well, I’m new-ish. Got the work friends, of course, but none of them have kids. And you and me, well….”

“Do you still drive like an absolute insane person?” Ezra asked curiously.

“I’ve… toned it down since becoming a father.” He said and noted the curl of Ezra’s lip.

“I’m glad to hear it,” Ezra replied, taking a sip of his drink. “It would have been dreadful to have to yell at you to slow down if we ever went anywhere together.” He glanced at Crowley. “I mean if the boys are going to be friends, which if the way they are getting along is any indication, it’s a sure thing. Well, I’m sure we’re going to find ourselves in each other’s company quite often.”

“Still take your tea the same? Could have it ready when we’re meeting up here. Bound to happen, as you say.”

“I do,” Ezra replied. “And you? Still prefer your coffee black?”

“Like my soul.”

“Oh, please.” Ezra scoffed. “You were always one of the nicest-”

“Shut up!”

“- _nicest_ people I’ve ever met. If your soul is black, then I would be loathed to find out the state of mine.”

“Says the-”

“Don’t say it,” Ezra didn’t really protest.

“-the _angel_.”

Ezra blushed, trying not to look so pleased, but Crowley could tell he was. The nickname, which was more a pet name in Crowley’s mind, had likely not been used since the last time he spoke it.

“You never…,” Ezra started after a moment. “You never… kept in touch. I guess, I just assumed that maybe….”

“Maybe, what?”

“That maybe you had a reason to apologize that really had nothing to do with me.” Ezra turned to him then, the nervous worry in his eyes breaking Crowley’s heart. Ezra’s hands fidgeted around the cup in his grasp, and if it hadn’t been there, Crowley was sure they would be flapping about. “I’m not sure, maybe you felt obligated, or perhaps there was something happening in your life that you felt you needed to clear the air with others. Your note came just as I was leaving Oxford, which would mean, of course, that I wouldn’t have access to that electronic mail account anymore. I… I often wondered…. Oh, listen to me, ruining a perfectly good-”

“What did you wonder, Ezra?” Crowley asked softly, the name he would have said lodged in the back of his throat, waiting for permission to be set free again.

“…I had wondered if maybe you were hoping I would never have received it. So, you could have had a perfectly valid response if someone - I don’t know who - were to ask you why we stopped speaking.”

“No, that’s not… that’s not why. I… I just… things were….” Crowley stopped when he felt the warm press of Ezra’s hand on his, and he stared at it dumbfounded.

How often had these casual touches passed between them? How often had they held hands as they walked about the Oxford campus before Crowley changed schools? How many times had they lounged as teenagers, Crowley resting on the ground or floor in front of a bench or sofa Ezra was on, their hands resting in or on one another’s? He’d taken it for granted, not realizing how tactile his friend had been until Ezra was gone and casual touch was far less frequent.

“You don’t need to explain,” Ezra assured gently. “It was ages ago now. And while I may have wondered if you… it doesn’t matter. Not anymore.”

Crowley looked at that hand covering his and tried to will his hand to turn, palm up, so he could grasp it. The most he was able to do was move his thumb so it rested against Ezra’s.

“I didn’t want to stop speaking with you.” He managed to say. “Not ever.”

“Nor I.”

“Good,” Crowley said firmly. “So, we’ll just… forget the last ten years never happened, least as much as we can.”

“Had it really been that long?” Ezra asked softly, sadly.

“Yeah,” Crowley answered in the same tone.

“Well,” Ezra took a breath, straightening up, and unfortunately pulling his hand away. “We shall put it behind us then.”

“Great plan,” Crowley agreed, straightening from the slouch he hadn’t realized he’d gotten into himself. “Gimme your phone, I’ll put my number in it. Had to change it once.”

Ezra reached into his pocket, and Crowley held out his hand while taking a peek at the boys, seeing them sitting on the sand animatedly discussing something. He felt something placed in his palm and looked down at the small, lightweight device still lit up from Ezra bringing up a new contact page.

Crowley blinked at it, then threw his head back and laughed.

Ezra huffed, “What? It’s a touch screen!”

“It’s bloody ancient.” Crowley laughed.

“It’s only six years old! Hardly ancient.”

“Oh, Ezra, for technology that’s virtually the stone age. It has buttons on the bottom, honest to God buttons. And, the size, it’s so small.” He said, turning it about. “Oh my… it’s a bloody Nokia!”

“It’s a perfectly acceptable and functional device. It has applications, even.”

Crowley was still giggling as he began to put in his contact information. “I suppose, considering how long it took Liza and me to convince you just to get a flip phone.”

“I do text message more now,” Ezra said proudly. “Still not often, mind you. I still prefer to simply call someone.”

“I am not at all surprised,” Crowley said as he moved on to the messaging app, sending himself a text message. He heard the _ding_ in his pocket but decided not to bother with it just yet. He’d save it later after they parted ways and went home before he began to unpack while Warlock played or slept.

“So, what did you end up doing? Tell me about it.” Crowley asked as he gave Ezra’s phone back to him.

“Well, I teach English….” He started off, and they continued on talking and catching up until the boys came over complaining of being hungry.

They parted ways, though it seemed none of the four wanted to. There was a promise to the young ones that they’d see each other at the nursery on Monday, but between the adults, there was nothing more than a chance of running into one another.

At least, not yet, because as Crowley drove a tired, slightly cranky Warlock back home, he was starting to think of a dozen different ways he could see Ezra again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title comes from the song "Get Back In My Life" by Maroon 5


	2. To Have a Friend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is our first flashback, to when they first met properly

**1999 (twenty years ago)**

Starting a new school hadn’t been easy, but as Ezra had learned young, life itself wasn’t easy. Well, young is subjective, of course. Thirteen is still practically a child in the eyes of many adults, but he hadn’t felt like one in ages. Still, the move was needed, and if it was needed in late October, then so be it. He just hated that the adults lied. Lied about it going to be alright, that he would be fine, that after a while it would get better.

It was just that his new classmates seemed so immature. They mocked his name, his clothes, repeated what he said in a snobby, put-on voice that he thought was supposed to be him, but he couldn’t be sure. They sneered at his reading, loudly commenting on it for the world to hear how he was such a dork. And a pansy, which wasn’t new, but not any easier to swallow. They pushed him around, jabbing him with an elbow or shoulder shoving him into the wall, or the lockers, or onto the ground. Bonus points if they knocked the book he was reading out of his hands.

It wasn’t as bad when Eliza was around. All it took was a glare from her, and most would back off. It didn’t matter that she had the same accent, that she also liked reading, that she also wore hand-me-downs, Eliza was instantly popular. She was pretty and sociable, and that earned her respect from the onset. She dove into their new life with ease and set herself up in a few after-school clubs and activities which often meant Ezra facing the potential for a few new bruises and a ruined book.

Which is why he was hanging back now, instead of walking home promptly at dismissal and possibly avoiding the rain that threatened. He could see at least two groups that took pleasure in tormenting him waiting at various points along the path he’d religiously taken since he began just after half-term.

If he had been smart (no, correction- if he had had common sense), he would have left the school as soon as the bell rang. He should have ducked and blended into the crowds. He should have taken a different exit and taken a longer way home. He shouldn’t have lingered for a moment too long, debating going to the theater rehearsal and watch his sister. He shouldn’t have taken a moment to see if the library was still open for him to sit and do his homework until Eliza was done.

But he did do those things. He did linger and debate, and now the students were too sparse to hide among, and his tormentors had somehow figured out he was alone.

Maybe he could wait them out or hope there will be a moment where they were all distracted for him to sneak by.

Maybe he wouldn’t get in trouble for lingering among the corridors of the school if he ducked back inside.

He turned around, pulled on the doors, and found they were locked.

A swell of panic hit him in a wave. The only way back in the school would mean going around to the front, and that meant walking past at least one group of tormentors.

He was well and truly in a pickle.

“Well, that went down like a lead balloon.”

Ezra spun around, heart hammering, and he startled a tiny bit more when he met the really strange eyes of Anthony Crowley.

His eyes were _gold,_ and what’s more, there were things in his eyes that made them look a bit like an animal. He may have stared in a very impolite way the first few times he’d been in the boy’s vicinity, but he tried to always soften the blow with a smile before he looked away. Not that that probably helped at all, not when he likely got stared at a lot.

Which was precisely why Ezra was confused, nervous, a little pleased, and very apprehensive to find him standing on the steps.

“What?” He asked, trying to make sense of what Anthony was getting at.

“I said, that went down like a lead balloon. Heard my dad say it a few times, think it means a plan’s been foiled. Like, your trying to get back inside the building.” He gestured to the doors. “Something you needed, or…?”

“No, umm… was going to go back in for bit,” Ezra explained, glancing at the crowds, both who seemed to notice Anthony talking to him. Oh, that probably wasn’t good. He also realized, perhaps a bit too late, that he was flapping his hands about. More fuel for the inevitable fire when the others caught up to him. “Was going to go home.”

Anthony shuffled, scratching at the back of his head, not musing a single hair on his head, which still maintained the same style it had in Math that morning.

“Can walk with you, if you’d like?” He offered casually, looking everywhere but at Ezra.

He almost declined immediately. He’d _seen_ Anthony with a few of his tormentors on many occasions, even if that wasn’t whom he spent the most time with. And Anthony was never cruel, usually smacking them and mumbling for them to bugger off when they started up in his presence.

And that was the only reason he gave Anthony a very quiet, “okay.”

The young bloke smiled, adjusting the way the single strap of his backpack sat on his shoulder, and then waved for Ezra to lead.

He hesitated, as leading could mean putting his back _literally_ to a possible enemy.

“You, uh, you head through the park, yeah?” Anthony said, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “Only, thought I saw your walk through before, few times.”

“I... I do, yes. Only….” Ezra didn’t dare finish.

And he didn’t have to, as Anthony stepped down, gesturing to the path with his head. “Come on,” He said, his stride long, with a swing of his hips that made Ezra wince. A move like that, as cool as it was, probably wasn’t very good for the joints.

Ezra took a couple of running steps to catch up, and Anthony seemed to get the need to slow down, or at least shorten his stride. They kept pace with one another, and as they neared the others, Ezra ducked his head and tried not to draw attention.

The snicker told him it was too late.

“Hey, Ezra-”

“Piss off, Howl,” Anthony shouted, cutting off one of those blokes he was often seen with before he could say anything.

“Oi, what you up to, Crowley?” The other demanded.

“None of your fucking business, that’s what.” He called back, and Ezra frowned, looking as discreetly as he could between the boys and Anthony. And continued to glance over his shoulder much less discreetly as they approached the tree line that hid the chain-link fence that separated the park from the school grounds. Anthony’s usual crowd were all watching them walk away, talking low enough that not even the hint of their voices could be heard, frowning and gesturing at the pair of them.

But they didn’t move, and once he and Anthony were in the park, all the tension left Ezra’s body, and Anthony stopped in order to give him a moment.

“Thank you,” Ezra said sincerely.

“Don’t mention it,” Anthony replied.

This was where Ezra had fully expected him to just leave. To part ways, and head off somewhere else, likely to meet someone else. But Anthony stayed, adjusting his back and glancing at Ezra.

“So, you and your twin are usually joined at the hip, why aren’t you in theater with her?”

“Oh, Eliza’s not my twin. Not technically. Irish twins, they call us. Born ten months apart. She’s older, her birthday is in September and you… you… didn’t ask that.” Ezra said, blushing hotly, and glad the smile on Anthony’s face was kind. “I don’t like the idea of acting,” Ezra said, ducking his head and finding his formerly-white trainers much more interesting. “Not for me, anyway. I love theater in the broad term, but I’m not… not….”

“I get it.” Anthony said, “’S not for everyone. I love it, me, but my Dad says I can’t go up for it. Hoping mum will change his mind but’s not likely.”

“My dad wanted me to, thinks it would have helped me make friends like Eliza, but…, well.”

“Seriously, though? Ezra and Eliza? _Sounds_ like twins.”

“I suppose it does,” Ezra replied, not really sure what else to say.

They stood around for a moment, shuffling feet and adjusting bags before Anthony asked, “do you need to be home right away?”

“No,” Ezra replied. “As long as I’m home in time tea, it’s fine. Why?”

“I, umm, I have Mario Kart, the new one. Err, newer one. Probably more fun to play with someone else.”

Ezra frowned. “I’m actually not one for video games, find them hard on my eyes.”

“We could just hang out.” Anthony quickly offered, only a hint of desperation in his offer. “My parents aren’t going to be home for a while, but they wouldn’t mind if I have someone over.”

He very nearly declined the offer immediately. He wasn’t the sort of boy others wanted to just ‘hang out’ with. Even in his previous school, no one simply wanted to spend time with Ezra for the sake of it. But Eliza was going to be a while, and it was quite unlikely that his mother would be able to provide much company in the hours before tea time.

“We could do our homework together?” Ezra offered, wincing a little in preparation to be declined.

But Anthony smiled. No, Anthony _beamed_ at him as if Ezra’s reply was the answer to all his hopes and dreams. It was catching, and despite still being a bit wary, Ezra smiled back.

“Alright, I’m this way,” Anthony said, shifting his bag and gesturing to the opposite end of the park that Ezra would normally leave through. They were just about to move when the first heavy drop of rain landed between them. They looked up; each being greeted by a drop on the face that had them wince.

Without looking, Ezra reached into the side pocket of his backpack and pulled out an umbrella. He’d spent enough time in his life walking home from school in the rain to not be prepared. And if it was a bit uncool to carry around the compact white umbrella, so be it. At least he was always dry.

He opened it off to the side, then swung it up and over his and Anthony’s head just as the other boy looked ready to somehow throw the back of his jacket over his head.

“There.” Ezra grinned. “Now we don’t have to run.”

Anthony looked at the umbrella over his head, then back at Ezra. “Gonna be a bit cramped, us huddled underneath together.”

“I don’t mind if you don’t,” Ezra said, his index finger running along the ridges of the handle.

But Anthony shrugged, slunk a little closer, and pointed off in the direction again.

~C~

He wouldn’t admit to being a nervous wreck the whole way back to his house, because Anthony wouldn’t admit to anything that didn’t make him look or sound infinitely cool. He would never admit that the prospect of Ezra either deciding Anthony wasn’t worth his time, or was for all the wrong reasons, was terrifying. He was new, both to the school and to the area if what his sister said to some others was anything to go by. He had no preconceived notions, which would hopefully work in Anthony’s favor.

The problem with being a Crowley was that it came with a catch that he was beginning to learn more about the older he got. It meant being able to keep up with trends, of getting whatever he liked so long as he kept his grades somewhat decent. There had never been a Christmas without exactly what he wanted under the tree; no birthday passed without a party big enough for every kid in his grade to attend.

The Crowleys were rich, put bluntly. He should have been in some fancy boarding school halfway across the country, but Anthony’s mother didn’t want that for her only child. She wanted him home, where she could see him, talk to him when she was able to, have a life next to his where she could stick her nose in on occasion. Up until last year, he’d had a nanny overseeing most of his care. Now his parents trusted the staff would make note of him coming home, and if he didn’t do his homework, they’d find out somehow. Babysitters, of a sort. Paid to do their jobs, but were probably tipped when they made sure the young master Crowley could be reported on.

Ezra stopped just outside the short, gated driveway, looking between the house and Anthony. “Here?” He said.

“Yeah,” Anthony said, typing his own code into the keypad, the beeping hardly audible over the rain. Only half the gate opened, enough for the two boys to slip in, and it slowly closed behind them when they were through.

Anthony stayed under Ezra’s umbrella as they went up to the front door of the overly large house. It wasn’t a mansion, his parents felt that was too ostentatious, but it was as close to one as living in the quiet suburbs allowed. Biggest house on the block, easily, and with more rooms than truly necessary for a family of three. He waited for the boy to collapse his umbrella and tuck it away before turning to the large doors.

He let them in, glancing around to make sure the housekeepers weren’t about anywhere nearby, then closed the door behind them. He watched Ezra look up and around, at the high ceilings and the gold-painted banisters. At the grand-ish stairs leading to the second level, and then through the large archway into the sitting room meant for guests to the right. Most of the kids at school would look at the rather large home and stare. Ezra did a little, but there was a tiny bit of a frown with it instead of the normal dropped jaw. A good sign, in Anthony’s opinion.

“It’s….” Ezra said, looking around again.

“Big? Shiny? Do you want to know where the butler is?” Anthony joked, smirking as he looked at Ezra.

Ezra was not amused. “Are you mocking me?”

Anthony’s smirk fell away. “No.” He shook his head vehemently. “No, that’s-that’s not what I was trying…. It’s just, people usually… when they first come in….”

The ice in Ezra’s eyes melted away, but the tension in his face remained. He then looked down at his feet, swallowing visibly. “I apologize,” he said quietly. “I thought….”

“Yeah, I wasn’t,” Anthony mumbled. “Thinking, I mean.” He added with a huff.

There was a rumor, one he hadn’t been able to really confirm, that the Fells had moved here was because the Dad was sick. The whole less money so let’s move to a quieter area where housing was the more affordable plan he heard his parents talk about when they thought he wasn’t listening. He wasn’t sure any of it was true, though it seemed that both the Fell twins ( _not actually twins, but whatever)_ had slightly outdated clothes, and he knew the side of the park they left through was near the poorer parts of the area.

Showing off the wealth, even in a joking manner, probably wasn’t smart, and Anthony fully realized he’d put his foot in his mouth. But Ezra smiled just a bit and gave him a nod as if to say he understood.

“Right,” Anthony said as his stomach returned to where it was supposed to be. “My room’s up this way.” He gestured to the stairs, heading for them without seeing if Ezra was following. He wouldn’t admit he was relieved to hear the hesitant footsteps following him up.

He led Ezra to his room, which was in the far corner of the opposite side of the house from his where his parents dwelled. Considering the reaction Ezra had to the house, Anthony didn’t think the joke about being banished to the west wing wouldn’t go over well.

“Bathroom,” he said as they passed the open door, and he didn’t bother telling Ezra what was behind the closed ones. His room was very distinctly marked in a way that only a teenage boy could do so: with a mass number of stickers and signs, at least three of them stated for people to keep out, as well as some small posters and school pennant as if he was somehow filled with school pride.

He cracked it open and gestured for Ezra to go through first.

“Oh, my,” Ezra said as he stepped in. “It’s… do you have… things?”

Anthony let out a surprised laugh as he stepped through and closed the door behind him. “Umm, yes.” He said gesturing to the bookshelves on the wall to the left. There were books, of course, but there had also been a few other things. Rocks that reminded him of planets, and stars, and space in general. A pair of binoculars, various potted plants that didn’t require a lot of light. There were video games lining the bottom shelf and CDs on the shelf above that.

Anthony went to his desk and tossed his book bag in the chair, watching as Ezra looked wide-eyed at the TV against the wall by the door, the entertainment center underneath it that held Anthony’s gaming systems and a DVD player. Ezra turned, looking at the queen-sized bed, neatly made and shoved in the corner against the wall. His eyes then drifted to the small sofa, a two-seater thing that was aimed at the TV but had the desk and chair between them. After taking in everything a second time, Ezra then turned to Anthony with wide eyes.

“It’s basically like having your own flat in a house.” He commented. “Without the kitchen or the loo.”

“One we passed is just mine,” Anthony mumbled, hating himself a bit for it.

“Well,” Ezra said, giving a tiny grin that may have looked a tiny bit manic. “At least we won’t be in the way.”

“No, we, uh, won’t. Umm, have a seat.” He said, gesturing to the sofa.

Ezra did, and Anthony kept the snort that wanted to escape to himself when he saw the prim, proper way in which Ezra sat even on a sofa. Anthony debated between sitting at his desk or joining Ezra on the sofa. A little less room, going the latter way, but it also seemed a bit dumb to invite a bloke over and then sort of ignoring him. So, Anthony took what he needed out of his backpack, went over, and sat down on the sofa next to Ezra. The boy smiled at him, glancing his way as he began to do his math

~A~

He left in time to make it home for tea.

He had to walk a bit more briskly than he’d have liked, but Ezra made it home from the Crowleys' before he’d be considered late.

But where if Eliza had only just breezed in as their mum was beginning to dish out Shepard’s pie, Ezra’s entrance had his mother and sister stopping what they were doing and turning toward him.

“You alright?” Eliza said, setting down the cutlery on the counter and charging over to him.

Ezra scrunched his brow. “I’m fine.” He said, smacking his sister’s hands away from his face, which she promptly ignored and took his head in her hands. She turned him about, looking for evidence of some sort of scrap, he was sure. “Honestly.”

“Why are you so late, then?” She said, putting her hands on her hips. Ezra noted their mother rolling her eyes in the background, going back to her task while Eliza played mother hen. “When I didn’t see you around after rehearsal, I thought you came home, but then mum started asking where you were, and-”

“Liza, love,” Their mum interrupted with a slight grin, causing the lines on her face to show. “Ezra doesn’t owe you an explanation.”

Cynthia Fell was not what one would call an old woman. She was, however, a good twenty years older than most of their classmate’s parents. She was three years shy of sixty but had won the genetic lottery in that she hadn’t really looked it. Her curly hair was naturally a near-white blonde, something both her children had inherited, so any silver that may have been among the strands was easily lost. Her eyes were not the mood changing blue of her children, but a solid-state brown that admittedly needed glasses these days.

Eliza huffed, dropping her hands before turning around and half stomping back into the kitchen. Ezra put his backpack down in the entryway, toed off his shoes, and joined the women in the kitchen.

“That’s not to say we weren’t worried about you,” Cynthia replied as she handed Ezra two plates to bring to the table.

Ezra nodded, shifting into the small dining room where Eliza was setting three places.

Cynthia followed them in, carrying one plate and a bowl of salad. After she set it on the table, and the three of them took their seats, Ezra picked up his fork and poked at his food.

He wasn’t sure _why_ he was suddenly so nervous to explain himself. The rules had been the same for as long as he and Eliza were able to leave school and come home on their own: as long as they were home for dinner, and responsible, they could do what they liked after school. In truth, for Ezra that had usually meant going straight home, or to the library. He was just getting the nerve to go to clubs when they had to uproot and change schools.

“I was… at a friend’s house.” He said, then immediately scooped a decent-sized bite on his fork and shoved it in his mouth. He kept his head bowed as he chewed, finding it unnerving to hear not a sound from the others. No scrap of cutlery or passing of anything. Ezra swallowed, then peeked up.

“What friend?” Eliza asked, eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“Liza,” Cynthia scolded.

“What?” She snapped back. “We’ve been to the school for nearly a month, and he’s not been seen speaking to anyone unless it was someone picking on him.”

Cynthia narrowed her eyes at her eldest before turning a warm, smile on Ezra.“Who were you with, dear?”

“Anthony. Crowley.” He added the last name on at the last moment.

“The freaky-eyed bloke?”

“Eliza Jane!”

“What?”

“Don’t say that,” Ezra glowered.

“Exactly,” Cynthia said, pointing her fork toward her daughter. “His eyes are unusual, yes, but we don’t go around saying things like that. I thought I raised you better.”

“Sorry,” Eliza grumbled before turning to her food.

“Did you have a nice time?” Cynthia then asked Ezra, and he gave a small smile.

There really hadn’t been enough homework to keep them occupied for the near two hours he’d been in the Crowley house. But one off-handed comment about the book they’d been assigned to read for English had led to an in-depth discussion on the material Ezra would never have been able to engage in class. Anthony was bloody smart, so much smarter than any impression he gave off in class. That had led to favorite stories because while Anthony wasn’t a big fan of reading, he did very much enjoy the film. Stories led, somehow, to music, and before either knew it, a kind lady rapped on Anthony’s door to inform him his parents called and would be home in an hour for dinner. That made the boys realize the time, and as Ezra hurried down the stairs to get his stuff and head home, Anthony followed, promising to talk to him more tomorrow.

“I did,” Ezra replied to his mum, taking another bite.

“Well, I’m glad to hear. Your father will be happy to hear you’re making friends.”

“Where is dad tonight?” Ezra asked, almost not wanting to.

“Physical therapy,” Cynthia replied, trying to sound nonchalant, but the catch in her voice gave her away. “Was the only time he could get in today.”

Ezra nodded, his throat tightening a little.

Their mum may have been nearing sixty, but their father, Thomas, was already in his late seventies. It was a romantic notion, Ezra had thought, when it wasn’t so tragic. His father had been married before, had wanted a family, but he and his first wife had never been able to. His mum used to be an academic, and had forgone the expectations of her era and threw herself into work. They met a few years after his father’s first wife passed and married a while later. Neither of them had expected to have children, having two had been a wonderful, happy surprise.

But it had come with its own challenges.

Thomas was retired by the time the children had been born, which wasn’t so terribly bad in the beginning. Money was a bit tight, with only one proper income and a pension, but they didn’t have to worry about childcare as Thomas was home. But living in London had gotten more expensive as years went on, and their small flat was beginning to become a bit too small as Ezra and Eliza got older.

Then the stroke happened.

“How’s he doing?” Eliza asked, somehow stronger than Ezra and able to ask.

Their mother sighed. “He’s getting by. Might have some movement in the left leg again, eventually, but we shall see.”

“Good.” Eliza nodded. “So, rehearsals went well. Though that girl, there, you know the one, Ez, with the red hair? She didn’t seem all too pleased that….”

Eliza filled the silence, as she usually did, and the slight wave of melancholy left the table. Ezra listened to her recount her day but didn’t contribute much. And if his mind wandered to another room and another conversation about the deeper meaning of a sixth toe in a book, then so be it.

~C~

Anthony waited in the park, by the entrance that the Fells would come through, and had been waiting since a terribly early hour. He just hoped he wasn’t about to make an ass out of himself, thinking maybe he and Ezra had hit it off better than they did. It had been a while since he talked with someone, anyone, like he had with Ezra the day before. The conversation left him feeling something he couldn’t put into words, not properly. Happy, yes, sort of buzzy like he’d snuck some of his dad’s coffee. Excited, for sure.

So, he’d gotten up earlier than he normally would, making sure he was ready to leave well before he would even consider stepping foot outside the door. He had to see, had to make sure there was even a slight bit of real to what was happening. Maybe Ezra wasn’t sure how to say no, maybe he went along with Anthony because he’d gotten him out of a potentially bad situation. He wouldn’t know, not until he saw him again. He wasn’t sure how, but instinct told Anthony Ezra would give himself away one way or another.

He heard footsteps on the other side, a quiet conversation that he couldn’t make out. But he recognized the tones, and that was enough for him to inch forward in order for the Fells to see him and have him not startle them by jumping out of nowhere.

Both looked up as they entered, eyes wide and perhaps being startled despite Anthony’s intention. Then, their expressions shifted.

Eliza Fell narrowed her eyes on him, her pretty face full of suspicion and perhaps a little mistrust.

But Ezra beamed, his whole face lighting up and it was enough for Anthony to do the same.

“Thought, you know, if it was alright with you, maybe we could walk together.”

“That would be lovely,” Ezra agreed, prim and proper. “Do you know my sister, Eliza?”

“We’ve met,” She said, not unkindly but lacking a lot of Ezra’s friendliness. She got them going again, and Anthony fell in step on the opposite side of Ezra.

They didn’t talk the rest of the way to school, but that was fine. Every time Anthony glanced at Ezra, he was grinning. Which, honestly, Anthony couldn’t really say anything about because his own mouth seemed to be stuck on the same expression.

They stayed at each other’s side until they were forced to part ways for their different electives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title comes from "It's Nice to Have a Friend" by Taylor Swift.


	3. And I Ache to Remember

For the first time in nearly two weeks, Ezra felt light. He and Adam had arrived home, he gave his nephew lunch and sent him for a nap, and then found himself sitting on the sofa, staring off into space.

Never, not even a little, had he ever expected to be reunited with Anthony Crowley.

And if he was completely honest with himself, he never once imagined it could have been like that.

Easy as breathing. Like coming into a warm home after being out in a terrible rainstorm. As it felt to slip on a well-loved pair of shoes.

They fit, it was warm and comfortable, and absolutely right.

His heart gave a shudder, trying its very hardest not to immediately return to the state it was in before their ill-fated disagreement.

He went over their conversation in the park in his head twice, remembering the smiles and laughs, the disbelief and surprises. Some topics didn’t lend themselves to the conversation, they never spoke about anyone outside of themselves and the boys, but that was okay, too. There was something wonderful in the prospect of getting to know one another so well again, of letting the secrets slip by, one by one, ready to share when the level of intimacy between them returned to where it once was.

Well, maybe not _quite_ that far.

Still, it was a bit like falling in love all over again.

Not like Anthony ever _knew_ Ezra had loved him.

Without thinking about the action, Ezra rose and went to the bookshelf, pulling from it one of the few contemporary novels he’d ever owned. Eliza had kept it there, seeing as how his small flat hadn’t had the room for all his books, and her own collection was sorely lacking.

He’d ran his hand over the cover, recalling the explanation that went with it when he was being gifted the book.

_“It’s taking the tragedy and turning it into a comedy, okay.” Anthony had said._

_“So, the author defiled Shakespeare.”_

_“No, the author_ improved _Shakespeare. We need to laugh more. You_ _’ll like it angel, promise._ ”

Ezra had loved it and giggled most of the way through despite the very bawdy language and some additions to the original story structure. He had still pulled it off the shelf to read it from time to time, thinking of Anthony and allowing his battered heart to ache. He even went so far as purchasing the sequel five years back, wondering if Anthony had known about it.

Ezra opened the book, thumbing through the pages until he found what he was really looking for: a photograph.

It had been too hard to keep it where it was easily viewed, but it was also something Ezra could never truly part with. When he’d moved out of Eliza’s flat a year and a half ago, he thought leaving the books and the picture behind would help him let go in some way. It hadn’t, but it didn’t really matter. Now he looked at the image in his fingers, of he and Anthony when they were teenagers, shortly before graduating.

He couldn’t remember who’d taken it, probably Eliza, though it may have been someone else they were friends with. They were at the school, must have been because they were in their uniforms: Ezra all buttoned up, shirt sleeves rolled down, the hem of the white dress shirt tucked into his dark, blue-green trousers. His black cardigan was neat, his tie properly done and tucked beneath the sweater. He was looking at Anthony, laughing at something the other had said. Anthony was looking at him, his then short hair styled just so, all care-free and barely within school regulations. Unlike his uniform, Anthony had his shirt untucked and his sleeves rolled up. His tie was loose, hanging from his neck as the collar was popped. The cardigan was tucked against his side, nestled there by his arm as he had both hands in his pockets. Ezra had been holding books, of course, and if he looked closely enough, he could see the white-knuckle grip he had on them.

He’d been utterly, and completely gone of Anthony, even if the other boy had never shown any signs of reciprocation. And Ezra had been very, very careful not to let on how he felt. Not that he thought that Anthony would have judged him back then, he wouldn’t have. There had already been an incident that made it clear that it would merely be the pot calling the kettle black. But Ezra hadn’t wanted to somehow drive off his one best friend aside from his sister. He wondered, looking at the picture, how he had ever thought he had hidden his crush on Anthony well. It was painfully obvious how deep his feelings went, and sometimes when he was feeling wistful, he thought maybe there had been something in Anthony’s gaze, too.

The knock on the front door had him startling badly, causing him to fumble the book in his hands. He slammed it shut and shelved it a bit too roughly as if he’d been caught doing something he really shouldn’t be. Pressing his hands to his cheeks a moment, he shouted, “coming,” as he made his way to answer the door.

His brows shot toward his hairline when he saw who was on the other side as he opened it.

“Gabriel.” He greeted the unexpected smiling face on the threshold.

“Hey, sunshine,” He replied. “How ya doing?”

Ezra’s brain, being full of one particular person, and still lingering somewhere on memory lane, couldn’t help but remember the first time he’d seen Gabriel.

_“He’s pretty,” Ezra commented, tilting his head to the side._

_“He’s an idiot” Anthony had said, arms crossed over his chest, lip curling in distaste. Ezra couldn’t tell if it was because of the very American accent, or the fact that Gabriel had been wearing a shirt from his very American high school around the very English university campus._

_“He’s a pretty idiot.” Ezra conceded. “He reminds me a bit of that character, oh what was his name? The one from the movie… Kronk!”_

Anthony had scoffed and rolled his eyes at him. Ezra had hoped, maybe a bit, that Anthony was a little jealous. It was more likely that he just didn’t like Gabriel, but younger Ezra would always wonder if maybe there was a very certain reason for the immediate distaste.

“I’ve been doing better,” Ezra replied to Gabriel with a grin. “What brings you by?”

Gabriel held up a white paper bag. “Sushi!” he declared, his smile expanding somehow as he held up the bag.

Ezra frowned. “You hate sushi.”

“But you don’t,” Gabriel replied, and made to step in.

And Ezra obliged, if only because the man did bring him one of his favorite treats. Gabriel toed off his shoes and ventured into the kitchen area while Ezra closed and locked the door.

“Where’s Adam?” Gabriel asked as Ezra joined him.

As Gabriel began to unpack the take away at the small, three-person table in the kitchen, Ezra replied, “He’s napping right now. We spent a very long time at the park this morning. He was a bit worn out.”

Gabriel placed the container of sushi where Ezra went to sit, removing a salad for himself before moving to the counter and setting the bag aside. There was a thunk of something, and Ezra frowned curiously at the paper bag for a moment, wondering what else Gabriel had brought.

“So,” Gabriel said as they sat down. “You two got out this morning, that’s good.”

“Yes,” Ezra agreed as the two of them began to prepare their lunches. “I thought perhaps it was time to return to some form of normalcy, what with life going back to… well, as normal as it can be come Monday.” Ezra paused as he opened the container, breathing in the wonderful aroma. “And, despite his having a nap now, it may mean he’ll sleep better tonight.”

Gabriel peered up at him while still having his head bowed over his salad container. “You haven’t been seeing much of the pillow yourself, have you?”

“That obvious, is it?” Ezra asked as he rubbed the take-out chopsticks against one another, cringing. Anthony hadn’t said anything, but then insomnia had been Ezra’s friend as long as they’d known one another. If Anthony remembered, he probably thought it best not to mention anything.

“It is a bit,” Gabriel said as he stabbed some leaves. “Why don’t you get that woman there to watch Adam for a bit, get in a nap or something.”

“If I’m going to get Marjorie to watch Adam, it’s so I can go to war with my landlord over letting me out of my lease.”

Gabriel’s head shot up. “Out of your… you’re moving?”

Ezra blinked. “Yes.” He said as though it was obvious. Because, really, Gabriel had to have known. “I don’t exactly have the space for a second person in my flat. Ideally, I would find a new place altogether, but that would be insanely difficult given everything. Marjorie was happy to allow me to take over Eliza’s lease, keep Adam where he’s used to being and where she can still lend a hand to help. Honestly, that woman is a godsend.”

“You’re… you’re going to be moving in here,” Gabriel asked, gesturing around.

“ _Back_ here is more accurate.” Ezra retorted as he dipped a piece of his roll in the soy sauce, slowly bringing it to his mouth and intending to savor it.

“You know, there are some great family flats around my place,” Gabriel said earnestly before taking a bite of salad. Ezra chewed a bit faster than he would have liked to, but still didn’t manage to finish before Gabriel added, “Still near that school he’s meant to go to, right? And closer to _your_ school. I could help! Bring the little guy in once in a while.”

“Gabriel, I can’t afford a flat anywhere near where you live.” Ezra reminded him, a discussion that’s been in place, in some form or another, since Ezra decided to move out on his own. “I wasn’t able to afford a simple one room in that area; I’d never be able to get one large enough to house Adam as well.”

“You haven’t looked recently!” Gabriel countered with a grin, and Ezra refrained from rolling his eyes. “There have been some places around my block, not on it but around it, that have sold for a reasonable price.”

Ezra hummed. “Yes, a house. On a teacher’s salary. As a new single parent.”

“Aren’t there allowances for those sorts of things?” Gabriel frowned.

“Not nearly as much as you might think,” Ezra countered. “And what’s more, I wouldn’t see a pound of that until the paperwork for Adam’s custody has been put through. It’s only because of Eliza’s will that Adam is still with me now and there isn’t a battle for him while he’s in a foster home.”

And he would have fought, tooth and nail, to have custody of his nephew. He was sure, deep down, that any agency that would have taken on his case would have allowed Ezra to keep Adam with him. But there was still a chance, however small, that someone might have thought him an unfit guardian.

Gabriel continued to frown for a moment before shrugging and shaking his head. “I was just trying to point out that there were other options.” He said kindly.

“I appreciate your attempts to help,” Ezra said, reaching across the table and putting a hand over Gabriel’s without thinking through the gesture. He realized instantly what a terrible idea that had been the second Gabriel’s wide, near-violet eyes fell on his with such pure hope.

Hope that, in all fairness, Ezra may have instilled in him a few years back. Hope that he hadn’t been careful enough not to instill. Patting Gabriel’s hand awkwardly, Ezra withdrew his own, finding himself losing his appetite.

“Ez, is there anything I can do? Anything I can help with?” Gabriel asked after a moment. “Packing? Either at your place or… or here.”

“No, thank you.” He replied, setting his chopsticks down. “Marjorie was a dear and helped me pack up Eliza’s things just before the funeral. As for my own, I should probably hold off until Mr. Sandalphon lets me off the hook for the last few months. If I move all of my things out beforehand, he may rent it out to someone else before I’m released.”

Gabriel snorted, never an elegant sound, and he shook his head. “I could help, you know. He’s an acquaintance of mine, we’re on good terms.”

“That’s very kind of you. I’ll keep it in mind if he causes me any sort of trouble.” He smiled, and Gabriel seemed placated by that.

There was a lull between them, one that allowed Ezra’s appetite to return. The conversation didn’t pick up again until both men were nearly done.

“So, you’re returning to work Monday,” Gabriel asked.

“Yes,” Ezra replied. “I was… well I won’t say fortunate enough that the accident happened when it had. But I wasn’t even close to ready to go back after a week, and having the break immediately after was beneficial.”

“Good, I think getting back to work will be good for you. For both of you, Adam too.”

“Adam is… resilient,” Ezra said, looking toward the short hallway where the bedrooms were. Softly, he continued, “I think having the innocence of youth has helped him. He knows his mum is gone, and I believe he has an understanding of why. That she didn’t abandon him, and that she loved him, and she really thought she would be coming home to him. He was sad, and he still is when he thinks on it. But he’s bounced back, and he’s done so quite quickly.”

“He’s had you,” Gabriel said in an affectionate way, but Ezra only managed a small smile. “Maybe I can come by later in the week? We can have dinner, the three of us.”

“Not just yet, Gabriel.” Ezra let him down. “Adam may be ready, but to be frank, I’m not. I would like a week or two, back at work, to adjust-or readjust- to life with a child around. And this time, as the only one to do the work. Bedtimes can be a nightmare on their own, without the added excitement.”

Gabriel nodded, and then gave a grin. “Well, when you’re ready, I’ll be there. You just need to call.”

“I will,” Ezra agreed.

The door creaked down the hall, and Adam shuffled down toward them, rubbing his eyes and clutching his blanket.

“How was your nap?” Ezra asked, realizing that it probably hadn’t even been an hour.

“Good.” He mumbled, sidling up to Ezra and leaning against his side. He peeked over at Gabriel and then hid his face partly against his uncle. “Hi,” He said quietly.

“Hi, buddy,” Gabriel replied, the only person Ezra knew of that called him that. “Got you a treat, if it’s okay with your uncle.”

Adam perked up, “Treat?”

Gabriel flashed a wink at Ezra before he got up, heading for the bag he placed on the counter.

Something like affection mixed heavy with guilt in Ezra’s gut as he watched Gabriel retrieve whatever he’d gotten for Adam. Something out of his way, and certainly not at the sushi restaurant. When Gabriel turned around and presented Adam with a biscuit, Ezra grinned just a bit.

Adam shuffled over, taking what appeared to be an oatmeal biscuit with a tiny grin. “Thank you, Mr. Haven,” Adam said, putting the biscuit in his mouth and immediately retreating to the living room.

Ezra sighed and shook his head, glad that Gabriel at least laughed off Adam’s bit of rudeness.

“He’s a great kid,” he said, and Ezra hummed in agreement. “So,” He clapped his hands together once. “I probably should be heading out.”

“Well,” Ezra said as he stood up. “If you feel you must.”

Gabriel seemed to war with himself a moment before sighing, nodding. “Yeah, I should. Umm, I’ll call you later, next week? See how you’re doing, if you need anything? Maybe the three of us can do something on the weekend?” He added the last bit in a bit of a rush.

“Sounds lovely,” Ezra said, though maybe not meaning it completely.

He followed his long-time friend to the door, opening it for him and standing on the doorstep as Gabriel stepped out. Once over the threshold, he turned and put a heavy hand on Ezra’s shoulder, giving it a squeeze before running his thumb over it. “Later, Ezra.”

“Mind how you go,” He said, stepping back and out of Gabriel’s reach. With a nod, the man turned and left, briskly heading down the stairs and around the corner to where he likely parked his car.

Ezra watched him for a moment before turning back in and closing up.

~C~

If one had asked Crowley a week ago how he imagined his first Sunday in the new house would go, he would have said hellish. He could have only pictured a tantrum fueled Warlock displeased with life in a new house, the prospect of a new nursery the following day, and Crowley trying to settle in among the screams and stomping. He’d imagine it would rain in heavy sheets, and everything would simply suck.

It was raining, but instead of everything being horrible, it actually wasn’t bad as far as unpacking went. Warlock was in a great mood, having found his box of toys upon returning from the park the day before, and was happily playing with those. He was also thrilled beyond reason that he and his new friend would be going to the same nursery, happily telling Crowley all the games they were going to play together.

The stereo was set up and playing, and Crowley had unearthed the coffee maker and some mugs. He also remembered to make a stop to the shops the night before, and so life was going pretty good as far as he was concerned.

The doorbell rang as Crowley was up on a ladder placing a framed picture that was just a touch too heavy for him to move quickly. He couldn’t imagine who it would have been, but he knew exactly who he wished it was however impossible. He never told Ezra where he lived, just the general direction from where they were in the park.

“I’ll get it I’ll get it I’ll get!” Warlock screamed, running to the door from upstairs faster than any small child had the right to. Crowley would have to remind him later he wasn’t supposed to do that later, but now….

“Lock, don’t you dare open the-”

He heard the door open before he could finish the sentence, and he cursed under his breath.

“Nathema!” Warlock exclaimed, and a little bit of relief came over him.

“Hey you,” Her sweet, warm voice greeted Warlock as Crowley finished with the frame and climbed carefully down the ladder. “I could’ve been a stranger, though. You shouldn’t answer the door.” He could hear her chide, said door closing behind her. “Hey, you.” She called, and this time Crowley knew it was aimed at him.

“Hey yourself. What are you doing out this way?” He asked as he brushed his hands together and turned to face her.

Anathema was one of his closest friends, and probably one of the few people he’d met in his life that he could relate to. She came from money as well, though her parents weren’t awful about it. She moved to Tadfield a few years back to be near her aging great grandmother before she passed and decided she liked it enough to stay.

When she interviewed with Crowley at The Garden, she confessed it was more for fun and because she really liked being around green things. What was supposed to be a fifteen-minute (and thankfully last) interview for him had become the two of them chatting for a couple of hours in his office, then heading out for drinks after. It was the first time in a while that Crowley had been out with someone where it hadn’t led to them attempting to get in his pants. Or he in theirs, if he was honest. Anathema was like the sister he didn’t have, the Liza to his….

Well, he hired her at any rate.

Normally she’d be in long, flowing skirts, having a very witch-like aesthetic, the perfect match for her personality. But today Anathema opted for a pair of denim overalls, the shirt beneath still loose and high necked.

“Well, I thought I would come by and help,” She said, gesturing to the many still-packed boxes. “Two sets of hands are better than one, and all.”

Crowley arched a brow at her, waiting for the real reason she’d come by. When she merely stayed still, almost in a challenging stance, he looked down at Warlock. “Tell Auntie Anathema all about your new friend, Lock.” He grinned, and Warlock’s eyes lit up. There was a slight flash of terror in Anathema’s eyes that she schooled into interest as the little boy let loose.

While Warlock occupied Anathema, Crowley moved into the kitchen area of the open-concept space.

It was one of the things that he liked about the house, he liked not feeling boxed in. Everything in his own home growing up was constrained. The living room was an entirely separate space from the dining room and that of the kitchen. Here they were all one room, and while there were still rooms upstairs at least he didn’t send Warlock off to his own bloody wing. Not that the townhouse was big enough to have separate wings, but that was beside the point.

He poured Anathema a cup of coffee, pleased with himself that he had actually managed most of the kitchen by himself the night before and was now had it in a pretty respectable state. Yes, the dining table still had a few things scattered about, and breakfast might have been had on the floor in front of the sofa that morning, but all in all, he was doing okay.

“Lock,” he said when he felt Anathema had been somewhat tortured enough. “Why don’t you head up and play, alright? Remember, we live here now. We can see Auntie Anathema a lot more than we used to.”

“Okay,” the little boy said, tearing back toward the stairs.

“Don’t run on the bloody stairs!” Crowley yelled at him, but he doubted he was heard.

Anathema joined him at the kitchen island, eyes wide, and Crowley couldn’t help but chuckle.

“He seems to really like this kid.” She said as she took the offered cup.

“Well he should, they were together for three hours yesterday. The only reason we begged off was because everyone was getting a bit nibbly.” He replied, taking a sip of his coffee.

Anathema frowned, tilting her head slightly.

“Yes, I know, I actually got hungry for once. Big day. Now, why are you here? I know it’s not really to help.”

“I’m really here to help.” She said levelly. “And also…,” she pursed her lips. “To gossip.”

“What we gossiping about?”

“Nothing, just… I might’ve… slept with Newt. Again,” She said this last part so quietly Crowley almost didn’t hear her over the music.

He removed his phone from his pocket and turned the sound down a bit, hoping Warlock would remain firmly in his room. “You slept with Newt? Again. I thought you didn’t know what was going on there?”

“I still don’t know what’s going on there.” She retorted. “But, you know, we were out, we had a few drinks, one thing led to another….”

“As opposed to you were at a funeral, you were heart hurt, one thing led to another, and….” A sudden thought came to Crowley that made his insides do funny things. “Wait, the funeral for a friend, right?” He asked. When Anathema nodded, a little confused, he swallowed. “This friend wouldn’t have been named Eliza, would she?”

Anathema blinked. “Yes. I thought I told you that, though? Asked if we could send the flowers over? I don’t think her brother would have thought about that.”

“Holy shit,” he said quietly to himself. He’d done Liza’s flowers without realizing it. Crowley rubbed at his chest over his heart, trying to dull the ache.

What if he’d actually been the one to make the delivery? He did it often, but with the apartment needing to be cleared out by the end of the week, and needing to deal with the last bit of paperwork, he had skipped that one. But now? Now he could imagine walking into the funeral home, and maybe Ezra would be there, holding Adam’s hand. Or even just by himself for a moment. Crowley doubted a reunion then would have gone as well as it had the day before, but he still imagined Ezra half falling into his arms, clinging to him in his grief. He’d have stayed for the service, at least he thought he would. Maybe if it had been a best-case scenario type thing.

“AJ,” Anathema said his nickname with concern, and he snapped out of his musings. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” he said, taking another sip. “It just… it turns out that I knew her.”

“Oh,” Anathema said softly. “Well, that makes sense, she was a customer and all.”

“No, I mean… I knew her from when we were younger.” He explained.

“Ah,” Anathema nodded. “Had a bit of a crush on her?” She asked as she knew already.

Crowley didn’t mean to laugh, but it came out in a bark anyway. “No, no I definitely didn’t have a crush on _Liza_.”

“Well I wouldn’t have been surprised if you did, she was beautiful,” Anathema said as she took a drink.

“Yeah,” Crowley commented off-handedly. “So, Newt. Again.”

“Yes, again. I don’t know what to do.”

“And you’re asking me?”

“God, no. Not with your track record.”

“Thanks.”

“No problem.” She grinned, cradling her cup near her chest. “I just… he’s nice. And sweet. And I could do with nice and sweet, but we also… don’t have a lot in common, ya know? He sneezes like mad if he’s outdoors for any length of time in any season but winter, which means the shop is just his own personal Hell while I adore it. He loves to fiddle with technology even though he’s absolutely terrible at it. The man breaks a computer a month, I swear. It’s in the shop more than it’s out. And he’s so quiet, and so shy, that when we’re out together he usually just stares at me for a bit, and needs at least a drink to start talking. Which, reminds me, he’s a total lightweight.”

“Mmm,” Crowley hummed, setting down his now-empty mug. “But you think he’s cute.”

“He’s so cute.” She agreed readily.

“Well, take it from me, Anathema, don’t let him slip away. You could mess about if you want, but if you really like him you should just go for it. Never know what might happen otherwise.”

He didn’t need to be looking at her to know Anathema was currently dissecting him in a way that only she could. Whether it be her claiming to read auras, or merely an ability to break someone down to the bare bones in moments, Crowley didn’t know. All he knew was right now she was trying to solve him, and if he didn’t change the subject soon, she might piece it together.

“How was the shop?”

“We have a couple weddings coming up,” She replied without missing a beat, but her narrowed gaze was still on him. “One couple wants to see you themselves. A bit of a disagreement over colors, but also not knowing what was best.”

“Hmmm,” He nodded. “Anything come in from the London shop?”

“Three quotes.” She replied. “You know, Lock was telling me about his friend from the park. Said his dad was with him, and the two of you seemed to get on just fine.”

“Is that what he said?” Crowley asked as he shifted to the living room, deciding now was a good time to finish unpacking his vinyls.

“Mmmhmmm. Wanna tell me about that?” She asked, following close behind. At least she knelt down in front of the box of movies, be helpful during her interrogation.

“Not much to tell.” Crowley lied smoothly, all the while thinking of Ezra’s smile, of his bright blue eyes, how there was only a slight hint of lines near them both. Had his hair gotten more white in the last decade? It had always been pale, almost cloud-like when the curls were just right.

“Uh-huh. Your music selection is too angsty for there to be ‘not much to tell.’ Also, you’re blushing.”

“I am not.” He said definitively.

“So, you weren’t using your son to play wingman?”

“No,” he glowered. “Warlock was already at the park when Adam showed up. Happened to….” He stopped. “I didn’t use my son as a wingman, I wouldn’t have needed to anyway.”

“So, you and this other guy just happened to hit it off. Love at first sight, or just lust?”

“Neither,” he said as he remembered seeing Ezra Fell for the first time. Remembered that taken aback look that crossed the blonde boy’s face, similar to how everyone reacts the first time to seeing his eyes. He remembered sizing the boy up, wondering if this stranger would begin to pester him. But Ezra smiled shyly before bowing his head and focusing on his book. “Just knew I wouldn’t need a ‘wingman’ to start chatting with him, just a good excuse.”

“Which was?” Anathema asked.

Crowley inhaled sharply through his nose, “How was Bea? When you called London because I assume you did.”

Anathema narrowed her eyes. “Why are you avoiding talking about this guy?”

“Because there’s nothing to say.” He said a bit too quickly.

“No, there’s just a lot you’re not saying,” Anathema said as she shelved the last of the movies. She picked up the box, began to set it aside, then looked at him expectantly.

“What do you want me to say?” He asked. “Would it please you to know I got his number?”

“Maybe,” She said with a coy grin.

“Yeah, well, it helps to have another parent whose kid is going to the same nursery as yours.” He countered, quite pleased with himself when Anathema growled in frustration.

She grumbled as she got up and pulled a second box over, tearing the tape off and revealing a mix of movies, CDs, and a few video games.

Crowley took out another handful of vinyls.

“You know, now that you live here, I have a single friend I can introduce you to.” Anathema started to say.

“I’m not interested,” Crowley said, and really meant it.

“Oh, but you would love him. Not really the type you usually go for. But he’s sweet and really kind, and just-oh shit!” She said suddenly, dropping the movies in her hand.

“What?” Anthony asked. “Spider get in there or something?”

“No,” Anathema replied, eyes wide. “You know him!”

“I do?” Crowley asked.

“Well, you said you knew Eliza when she was younger, so you’d have had to have known-”

“Ezra, yeah.” He said, cursing himself for turning red. “Yeah, I knew him. That’s, uh, that’s who I ran into at the-”

“Oh my god,” Anathema laughed. “You had a crush on _Ezra_ when you were younger. That’s what you meant!”

“And we aren’t discussing this.” He said with a tone of finality that she promptly ignored.

“So, what happened? Did you pine from a distance? Had you parted ways after graduation, never to speak again until today?”

“No… nothing like that,” He said morosely, and Anathema promptly stopped her teasing.

“Did… do you make a move and he didn’t…?”

“There was… there was never an anything, really. We were… he was… I just blew it, alright? I said things I didn’t mean, waited too long to apologize, and that was that. Until today. Bloody glad he carried on like nothing happened because I don’t think I could have taken it if he was indifferent or cold.”

Anathema seemed to be taking the time to absorb this new information, and while she did, Crowley finished shelving the vinyls.

“You should know,” She said quietly, “there’s this guy who’s quite taken with him. I don’t think it goes both ways, least not to the same extent.”

“Ezra said he wasn’t seeing anyone.” He turned to her, meeting her, eye.

“And he’s not. They’re not dating, but I do know that there’s a guy who’s been chasing his tail for as long as I’ve known him, maybe longer. And I think he may just be starting to wear down.”

“So?” Crowley challenged.

“I can tell you like him. Maybe more than just like him. And it sounds like you were probably close to becoming a thing when you were younger.”

Crowley huffed, looking away for a moment to hide the worst of his blush. “You got a point, Device?”

“My point is that this seems to be your second chance. Don’t waste it. Because I don’t know about before, but you’re not the only interested party this time.”

“Not sure I was ever the only interested party.” He said. “But thank you, I’ll take it under advisement.”

“Well, that’s a first.” Anathema quipped.

Crowley was about to deliver a scathing retort before Warlock shouted, “Dad, I’m hungry!”

He nodded despite his son not seeing him, then got to his feet, heading to the kitchen as Warlock calmly came down the stairs.

He and Anathema wouldn’t talk about Ezra for the rest of the afternoon, but her advice was never very far from his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Despite an undying love for Queen, I sorta imagine Crowley listening to some Matt Nathanson during this bit. Especially "way way back" "used to be" "Disappear" or "come on get higher" where the chapter title came from.


	4. You're My Best Friend

“Have we got everything?” Ezra asked himself more than anything, glancing around the kitchen to make sure nothing he set out got left behind.

“Got blankie, got pup-pup, got my water bottle.” Adam listed off the contents of his backpack as he re-zipped it. “Got it all, Uncle Ezra!”

Ezra smiled down at his nephew, who grinned back at him before getting on his shoes and coat.

His first day back at nursery, but only the fourth time Ezra had ever dropped him off. This would be his new normal, now, though.

Ezra had always woken up at six o’clock, showered, dressed in his usual choice of tan trousers, blue button shirt, brown waistcoat, and tan beige blazer combination. He liked looking the part of an old-fashioned English professor even if he only taught year ten.

He would then brew a cup of tea, make sure his briefcase was set with what he needed and planned his way to work. But now his mornings would include going back down the hall and rouse a little boy from his bed. Ask the sleepy Adam what he would like for breakfast. Make sure his face is clean of crumbs and jam, and that Adam is dressed inappropriate clothes.

“Well,” Ezra said as he picked up his briefcase. “If we’ve got it all, then we should set out.”

Adam clamored to his feet and put on his backpack. Ezra ushered him out and once the flat was secure, then headed off.

Little Duck nursery wasn’t terribly far, all things considered. Still, they had to take a bus. They made it to the stop just in time to see the one they were waiting for turn the corner. Ezra tapped his card and Adam moved along, heading for as far in the back as he could get.

“Is Warlock going to be there today?” He asked Ezra when they were seated.

“I do believe he will be.” He said, and for a second he considered texting Anthony to find out. But there were rules to this sort of thing, wasn’t there? And before the other day, they hadn’t really spoken in so long. He had no idea how it would look, his first attempt at communication being in regard to the boys. Which, really, was sort of the reasoning behind the exchanging of numbers.

 _Oh, there you go, overthinking everything,_ he chided himself internally.

A few stops later, and they arrived at theirs, Little Duck being just one more street down, sitting on the corner.

“Think Pepper and the others will like 'im?” Adam asked as they waited to cross the street.

“If you do, Adam, then I am absolutely certain they will, too.” He said as they got the light to cross. “But remember, even if they don’t, it might be because they’re jealous and think Warlock will try and steal you.”

“But I can come up with games for all of us.”

“I’m sure you will.” Ezra chuckled, glancing over to the left when movement caught his peripheral gaze.

And no, his heart did _not_ leap and sputter at the sight of Anthony Crowley walking hand-in-hand Warlock from the nursery’s side lot. He refused to believe it.

“Hi, Warlock!” Adam crowed, and the other little boy started to go faster, half-yanking Crowley to catch up to them.

“Morning,” Anthony greeted him with a grin, and Ezra did _not_ swoon a little.

“Good Morning,” He replied, clearing his throat when he realized he sounded a bit too tender. “How was the rest of your weekend?” he asked in a much more normal way for two people who were once friends and now friends again.

“Great, got the rest of the things done yesterday. Had a friend come by.” He said as he opened the door to the nursery for Ezra and the boys.

He could only smile before they were each greeted by separate staff members. The young woman who went to Crowley immediately began introductions, and Ezra thought he heard the word ‘tour’ thrown in there.

The slightly older woman who came up to him had the face he was beginning to hate, and hope he wouldn’t have to see for much longer.

“Mr. Fell, I’m so sorry for your loss.” She said by way of greeting.

“Thank you,” he said, then gave a pointed look down at Adam.

“Adam, sweetie, you can go on in. Your uncle needs to sign a few things.” She explained, and Ezra was taken aback. Yes, he knew he had to sign Adam in, stating he dropped him off. Same with at pick-up. But he hadn’t realized there would be more to it.

He knelt down, giving Adam a tight hug, a kiss on the head, then sent him off, watching him disappear inside the classroom. He then straightened, and when the woman beckoned him to come over to the reception desk, he followed.

“We understand you’re now Adam’s legal guardian.” She said as she brought a small stack of papers up into his view.

“Yes,” he said, confused.

“We just need you to fill this out, now. It would have been the initial enrollment paperwork, but with a change like this, they need to be all filled out again.”

He glanced at his watch as he set down his briefcase, realizing he wasn’t going to have time for breakfast if he didn’t want to be late for work. In his planning, he hadn’t factored in being requested to fill in paperwork. He accounted for the likely ten-minute wait to get the bus heading in the direction of work. He factored in the possible fifteen minutes at the cafe around the corner from the secondary school.

He thought he would have been out the door already.

There was a bright side, though, as most of it was digitally filled in. He vaguely recalled the one day a couple of weeks back he dropped off Adam so he could make arrangements for Eliza, and telling the nursery that he was going to be living where Adam had. He’d rambled a lot, trying not to cry in front of the staff, but at least his rambling had paid off, shaving a few minutes off the task. He essentially just had to fill in his own information, which wasn’t difficult.

Then he got to a bright, blue paper that said in big, bold letters: FELL, ADAM - EMERGENCY CONTACT LIST.

Panic flooded Ezra’s veins. _Oh, fuck_.

 _He_ _’d_ been the emergency contact, should Eliza not be reachable. He had no idea who she had put as the back up in case he couldn’t make it. They had literally no family left, at least none that he knew of.

He could put Marjorie down, but if she was with a client from either of her other businesses, she wouldn’t likely answer the phone.

He could put Gabriel and knowing the man would act like it was the highest honor to be given. But he also commuted to London nearly every day. Not to mention all the complications that would cause.

He would have liked to have been able to put Anathema, but knew she didn’t have a vehicle should Adam need to be taken home. And while, yes, she could use a bus or a taxi cab, he didn’t feel right naming her.

On impulse, and with his cheeks burning, Ezra put down Anthony.

He hadn’t known anyone else as long, despite the decade-long gap in which they didn’t speak. But even still, he knew Anthony, even if there was now missing knowledge. He knew he could trust him; knew he would help when needed.

And then, just in case, Ezra listed Marjorie as the second. She’d probably already been a second before.

“Bye, Lock.” He heard Anthony call as he was finishing up, signing the last forms. He glanced up as Crowley looked over, then did a prompt double take and stared when he met the ginger’s eyes.

They were brown. Not gold with those brown spots, outright brown.

Anthony smirked. “You’re still here?” He asked, hands going in his pockets.

Ezra gestured to the sheets in front of him with the pen in his hand. “Paperwork.” He said with a quick quirk of his lips before looking to the lady behind the counter. “All set, my dear.” He said to her.

“Oh, thank you.” She said, quickly going through the papers and checking them over. She paused on the blue sheet, looking at that one a bit too long before slowly going over the rest. “Looks like everything’s in order, Mr. Fell.”

“Excellent,” he said, handing back her pen. “I should be by around three-thirty for Adam, is that alright?”

“It’s fine.” She replied, looking like she was about to add something else and then thought better of it. “Have a nice day.” She said with a very put-on smile, promptly turning and going to the filing cabinet far too slowly to be normal.

“Off to work?” Anthony asked.

“Yes,” Ezra nodded once. “My first day back.”

“I’ll give you a lift.” He said, gesturing with his head toward the side lot.

“Oh,” Ezra said softly, fighting the very visceral reaction to immediately accept. “Oh, I would love to. But I usually stop by and-”

“Anywhere you want to go,” Anthony interjected that smooth little smirk appearing.

“Well,” And Ezra hated that he blushed even just a little. “Alright, then. Allow me to at least purchase you a cup of coffee before you take off to The Garden.”

Anthony gestured toward the door, and Ezra led them out of the building. He held the door open for Anthony, allowing him to lead him to his car.

Ezra chuckled when he saw it. “I should have known it was yours.” He said.

“You couldn’t have seen it from where you and Adam came from,” Anthony replied as he pulled the keys from his pocket, pushing a button to unlock the doors.

“No, but Saturday we passed by it as we entered the park. When I saw you there, I should have known this was your car. You always had an affinity for the older style.”

“I did get her custom made,” Anthony said fondly, reverently running a hand over the hood and then the roof. “I tried finding a true original. But I found one close to this style, not quite, and realized it wasn’t very kid-friendly.”

Ezra climbed in and looked at the dash. It had the aesthetic of an older model. All the dials and knobs, the small screen for the stereo, all of it had that old-fashioned feel. But there was absolutely no question that it was a modern car. Not when Anthony climbed in and turned the key, not when the vehicle quietly came to life, the stereo playing Queen, and a small screen for navigation lit up underneath it.

“I don’t even want to imagine what this cost you,” Ezra said as he glanced about, seeing the car seat in the back that seemed almost a sore thumb.

“Let’s just say it didn’t happen until well after I had money,” Anthony said as he shifted out of park and began to pull out. “Where do I go from here?” He asked.

“Oh, make a left when you leave the lot. You’ll be heading that way until you hit Greenwood street.” Ezra instructed, relaxing into the plush leather seat.

After they were out of the lot and past the immediate intersection, Anthony asked, “So, what happened to becoming a scholar? You were all set to write dissertations and analysis for the rest of your life.”

“Discovered you couldn’t really make a proper career out of that.” Ezra grinned. “I very nearly chose to become an archivist, but mum pointed out that perhaps my love for books and the written word might rub off on some impressionable minds if I went the same way she did. I was quite glad I did when she fell ill. Made me feel like, well, like I carried on some aspect of the family.”

“Your mum was always one of my favorite teachers. I mighta been a bit bias, of course, but still.” Anthony said fondly, glancing over at Ezra quickly.

“Why are your eyes brown?” Ezra blurted when he met them again.

Anthony chuckled. “Well, can’t very well go around wearing sunglasses all day. Might make me look cool, but it’s also a bit off-putting. Bad for business when customers can’t see your face properly. So, contacts. Let’s me get away without glasses for the day, but I don’t freak people out or make them uncomfortable.” After a beat, he added. “Warlock loved it when he was a babe. Thought it was hilarious, laughed every time I took my contacts out at the end of the day. Never figured out why.”

Ezra grinned a little, imagining those high-pitched baby squeals directed at Anthony.

“Adam had something almost like an evil cackle when anyone sneezed.” He offered. “There was one time I was home with the most terrible sniffles, couldn’t shake them. And every five minutes, almost without fail, I would sneeze. And then Adam would cackle for a solid minute, and just get himself settled and back to playing when it would happen again.”

“You babysat while you had a cold? Hell, Liza _let_ you babysit while you had a cold?”

“I lived with her, dear,” Ezra said, suddenly realizing he hadn’t mentioned that during their conversation on Saturday. “I moved here when she found out she was expecting. We found the flat together, and I stayed there until just after Adam turned three.”

“What made you leave?” Anthony asked as he slowed to a stop at a red light.

Ezra sighed. “I’m not entirely sure. I suppose it just seemed like it was time. I was there to help her through the toughest of Adam’s development, I was there to allow her some time to herself when she needed it most. But she noted I hadn’t really dated anyone since before I moved in with her, only a few here or there and all sparingly. She assumed it was because I had nowhere I could really take a date back to if it went well, but it was more because I spent a lot of my time feeling like I needed to be there with them.

“And Adam was getting bigger, and suddenly sharing a room with him wasn’t going to be feasible for her. So, I suppose I left so we could give each other space. I was still there for her, still able to help, but I wasn’t _there_ all the time.”

Anthony nodded as traffic began to move. “That was… that was very good of you, moving in with her like that.”

“She was my sister,” Ezra said as if that was all the explanation needed. “That cafe right there. If you didn’t mind waiting a moment, I’ll grab you a coffee before you leave.”

“Still taking you to work, angel,” Anthony said, and they both stiffened a little at the name. “Sorry.” He mumbled.

“No,” Ezra said quickly. “No, it’s… it’s quite alright.” Then added. “I don’t mind, really. It’s just been a while.”

Anthony nodded, turning on to the street and pulling into a parking spot on the side of the road. The two got out of the car together, crossing back to the other side where Ezra’s favorite cafe was.

Bright and cheerful, always appearing clean and orderly, the smell of buttery pastries warm from the oven filled the air as they stepped in. Ezra inhaled deeply through his nose, eyes nearly closing for the pleasure of it.

“This isn’t your scene or anything.” Anthony teased.

“Oh, hush,” Ezra said as he led Anthony to the counter.

“Morning, Mr. Fell,” the young lady behind the counter greeted him with a bright smile. “Your usual?”

“Yes, my dear, as well as a black coffee and…?” He turned to Anthony.

“Oh, right, food. Yes.” Anthony leaned back to look at the menu above, and then to the case off to the side, all while keeping his hands in his pockets. “Right, um… just… something simple. A croissant, I guess.”

The girl nodded, giving Ezra a cheeky grin before she went to fill his order.

Ezra ignored it.

“I imagine you likely had a nanny about when Warlock was little.” He carried on the conversation they were previously having.

“No,” Anthony dragged out the word a bit as their server came back with two paper bags and two take away cups. Ezra paid for them, and the men collected their items, heading very slowly for the door. “I actually had Warlock with me all the time. Carried him about in a papoose, did the real dangerous stuff while he was napping in a cot in my office. Had a few looks, what with a baby monitor clipped to my belt, but you know? Was awfully good for business in a weird way.” He grinned as they stopped beside the door.

Ezra didn’t want to go. He really, really didn’t. He glanced at his watch, seeing that there wasn’t a lot of time left before he should be at the school.

“Have to go, then?” Anthony asked, sounding as reluctant as Ezra was.

“Afraid I must.” He said. “If I didn’t have a class first thing this morning, I may have been able to get away with being a bit late.”

“Let me drop you off, then,” Anthony said, and Ezra couldn’t have said no.

They headed out and got back in the car, the pair quiet on the short drive to the secondary. There wasn’t enough time to say anything, not really. Ezra knew from experience the pair of them could fill hours talking about nothing and everything when they got going. At least the silence wasn’t uncomfortable.

They stopped at the drop off zone, and Ezra suddenly realized there was actually a very good reason for him to have declined the offer of a lift.

“Oh dear,” He said as a notable number of students had slowed down or completely stopped, first to examine the car and then to gawk at their teacher.

Anthony grinned. “Are we going to start a rumor?” He asked with an undertone of glee.

“The young man who worked the coffee cart at the park over the weekend is a student of mine. I was afraid because he saw me with Adam that there would be questions. This, I think, is a little bit worse.”

“Because now they’ll speculate that you’re-”

“Oh, dear, that isn’t speculation. I once overheard a student refer to me as ‘gayer than a tree full of monkeys on nitrous oxide’, it’s hardly a secret.”

Anthony burst out laughing, throwing his head back. Ezra delighted in it, barely able to contain how it came across physically, adding to the inevitable rumor fuel.

“No,” Ezra continued, “I do believe they’ll begin to speculate that you and I are, umm….”

“Wouldn’t be so bad, would it? Being thought to be seeing me?”

“Oh, good heavens, no!” He answered a bit too quickly, and far too emphatically. It only takes a quirk of Anthony’s eyebrow for him to realize just what and how he said it. Immediately, Ezra scrambled for his briefcase. “Well, umm, must be going. Thank you for the lift, and all. Right then, mind how you go.” He said as he scrambled out of the car.

He heard another door open as he closed his. “When are you done here?” Anthony asked.

Ezra whirled around, eyes wide at seeing Anthony out of the car, resting his arms on the roof.

“Well, umm, I, uh, well typically classes are finished by three.”

“So, I’ll be back at three, then?” Anthony asked.

Ezra blinked, dumbfounded. “Whatever for?”

“So, we can go pick up the boys?” Anthony frowned.

“But… wouldn’t you be working?”

“I _own_ the shop, Ezra. I can beg off when I want.”

Well, he couldn’t argue with that, could he?

“So, see you at three, then?” Anthony said, grinning with teeth and getting back into the car.

Ezra didn’t say anything before Anthony took off. Though, there really wasn’t anything he could have said, tongue-tied and flustered as he was. He turned on his heel and went into the school, making his way directly to his classroom. Once inside and at his desk, he ate his pastry as slowly as he could, savoring what he was able to while getting ready for the day. He even managed to get a few sips of tea in before the first bell rang.

There were some double takes as his first period class came in and a lot of relieved smiles.

“Yo, Mr. Fell,” one of the young gentlemen exclaimed with a smile. “’ Bout damn time you were back.”

“Language, Mr. Montgomery.” He chided gently. “And you make it sound as if you haven’t had a week off yourself. Now, let’s see. I had planned for you all to start _King Lear_ week before last, but I’m wagering Mrs. White did not.”

“She did,” One young lady pipped up sounding bitter.

“Wouldn’t explain anything we were reading to us, though,” Mr. Montgomery pipped up. “Just said that it was there in the words.”

“Well, to be fair, what she actually said was ‘if we would just focus on the work, we’d understand what’s going on.’” Another boy pipped up.

“Well, shall we start from the beginning and dissect it together, then?” Ezra offered, withdrawing his glasses from his coat pocket, and plucking his leather-bound version from his desk. The students shuffled, removing their school-issued paperbacks from their various bags, and then settled with rapt attention. “If I recall, Mrs. White preferred her students to read quietly to themselves.” Everyone nodded. “Well, then. Shakespeare is best understood when heard. Allow me.”

Ezra smiled, looking out over the class before beginning to read the play in his way, with varying voices for the characters, and stopping to explain the who and what and why that was going on. He drew the map as Lear asked for one, and marked off the territories as the elder daughters professed their love. Ezra, like he often was, was animated the whole time, acting as much as he could with the book in his hand. The play was practically memorized, but he still held it tight, kept it close, just in case.

“This is going to be a tragedy, isn’t it?” One of the students asked.

“I’m afraid it is,” Ezra said with a slight purse of his lips.

“That sucks,” Another student added.

“I have a friend who would agree with you,” he said, finding a small thrill run through him at the thought of Anthony and getting to call him a friend once more. “He loathed the gloomy ones, much preferred the funny ones, or comedies as is the proper term. Which,” He glanced at the closed door as if someone might be outside listening. “This has a funny adaptation that I was introduced to by said same friend. It is technically not meant for any of you, as it’s riddled with inappropriate language, and a few scenes that are perhaps a bit too adult, so I won’t give you the title of it. It does, however, have the name of one character from the play as the title, and it was released ten years ago, should any of you find yourselves in the city library and want to look it up.” He added with a smirk that got a laugh out of the class. “The ending, however, is different. As are some of the events leading up to the end, so I will know in your reports later if you read that instead of focusing on this. Which, we will. Now, who can tell me why Cordelia didn’t try and butter up Lear like her sisters?”

~C~

“Oooooo, you make me live now, honey!” Crowley sang, loudly, high-pitched, and out of key, as he worked in the back room of the shop.

It had been a bloody good day for a Monday. Warlock wasn’t a hellion, didn’t fight him in getting ready for the day. There was light traffic all the way to the nursery, and a parking spot as near to the front of the building as the side lot could allow. Yeah, the young woman showing him and Warlock about was a bit of a flirt, but he took it in stride.

When he arrived at the shop, there were no weekend messes of any sort to clean up, and there were the three quotes Anathema had spoken of, as well as a few orders that came in during Sunday. The orders were fun, the type of arranging he liked, and because everything was in order, and the shipment of new plants not coming in until tomorrow, Anthony got to spend his day making fun arrangements for those popping in for quick ones when the rest of his work was done.

And then there was Ezra.

Seeing him as they came around the corner of the nursery building had Crowley grinning like an idiot. Seeing him still there after the obligatory tour at drop off was an opportunity he couldn’t pass up. Having him in his car, having him fill the space beside him? He’d have gone the whole day a bit high on that, then he came up with the brilliant plan of repeating the whole thing come pick up.

Before Crowley put on the stereo in the backroom, he allowed himself to daydream, fantasizing of what might be. Of family dinners, the four of them, he and Warlock with Ezra and Adam. He imagined what it might like to come home after a long, over-worked day and finding Ezra in a chair, reading a book, the boys tucked in and asleep, or simply off playing together. He imagined kissing Ezra hello, talking about their days, and curling up next to him at bedtime.

He didn’t have a choice but to put something on, lest he accidentally make things not awkward should his staff walk in. The dopey look he was sure he had was bad enough, but anything else those thoughts might bring on would be pretty hard to explain. He didn’t like plants _that_ much.

“You’re in far too good of a mood,” Anathema said as she in to see what he was doing, only partly startling him. “Talk to your childhood crush again today?”

“Yeah,” Crowley said, glancing up at the clock. Two-thirty, he would have to leave soon. Leave to pick up Ezra, and if he was convincing enough….

“AJ,” Anathema said, and Crowley looked at her a little dazed. She was a bit smug looking. “Have you asked him out yet?”

“No, no, nothing… like that. Better to take these things slower, ya know? And I mean, with all he’s been through recently. Anyway, I need to get going. Pick up and what not.”

“Pick up? Crowley, you live here now, remember,” Anathema asked amused, glancing between him and the clock. “No way you _have_ to pick up Warlock by three.”

“Yeah, well….”

“You’re meeting Ezra, aren’t you?” She asked, tilting her head to partially look down her nose at him.

“Why would you say that?” He asked, willing his face not to heat up with only minor success.

“Because Newt finishes his day at three, and seeing as how he’s Ezra’s co-worker.”

“Wait, wait, wait, wait. Newton Pulsifer is a teacher?”

“Math,” Anathema nodded. “He’s very good at it.”

“You’re dating a teacher?”

“You’re trying to date one.”

“You, who says school is a repressive tool of the state, dating a teacher?”

She shrugged. “Last bloke you dated wouldn’t trust anyone until they proved they weren’t a witch, all while your son is named Warlock.”

“Alright, fine. Yes, yes, I’m going to be meeting Ezra. Boys are at the same nursery, so, there’s that.” He said, brushing his hands on his work apron before untied it. He put some distance between him and Anathema, using the time his back was turned from her to get himself together.

“Well, good luck then.” She said, much closer to him than Crowley was expecting. He glanced over, seeing her take her own apron off the hook before surprising him with a kiss on the cheek. “Maybe you want to take one of the bouquets you’ve been working on with you?”

“Shut it,” He said, though there was no heat. “Right, I’m off, then.” He said, glancing around the room before giving Anathema a little wave and heading out.

The shop was busy when he passed through, though not so much that the staff was run ragged. He smiled at customers he walked past, giving a little nod when they acknowledged him in that way people do when they come to one place often enough. It made him wonder how he had never crossed paths with Eliza in the three years he’d been opened in Tadfield. She must have come evenings, and on the weekends he wasn’t here, because it seemed like that was the only way he would have missed her.

Probably for the best, he couldn’t have imagined what sort of idiot he would have made himself, talking to her again.

Even worse was the thought of running into her on a day Ezra had joined her.

What was he going to say to Ezra when he saw him again? Just a hello? Small talk? Would it be weird to ask him if he and Adam would like to join him and Warlock for dinner? He could just drive them back to their flat, inquire about a later date, offer to even pick them up in the morning.

Yeah, that was the best way to go about it. Nice, simple, doesn’t come on too strong, too fast, yet still allows lots of opportunities for them to be in each other’s orbits.

He left the shop and crossed the lot to where he parked the Bentley, way off in the corner in the area designated for employees. He got in, started the car, glanced in the back as was his habit, and noted the singular booster seat there.

“Shit,” he cursed, thumping his head on the steering wheel. Well, there went that plan. He could still get Ezra, though. There was that, at least.

He started the car and made his way back to the secondary, pulling up roughly where he’d dropped off Ezra in the morning and waited.

And while he waited, well, it wouldn’t hurt to make sure there wasn’t anything in his teeth via the visor mirror, right? That his hair wasn’t…. Oh, crap, still in the messy bun. Crowley pulled out the hair tie, shaking the strands. Only a mild dent, sorta looks like it’s a wave, passable. No dirt on his face, either. He could take out his contacts, but that might be risky. He had wiped his hands but hadn’t washed them. Yeah, no, bad idea.

He put the visor back up and glanced down at his clothes. Jeans were fine, button-up was fine, both being dark enough to hide nearly any stain. There appeared to be a leaf on his snakeskin shoe, but if he was careful, maybe Ezra wouldn’t notice.

 _This isn_ _’t a date, this isn’t anything_ , Crowley scolded himself, gritting his teeth a bit and carefully avoiding the gawking teenagers as they slowly passed by his car again.

“Bye, Mr. Fell!” Crowley’s head whipped around at the sound of a student calling Ezra’s name. He watched as Ezra smiled and raised his hand in a wave, briefcase in hand, looking sort of handsome in his old-fashioned style clothes. He looked like he should have been a professor at Oxford a hundred years ago, but it also somehow suited him.

Anthony watched Ezra come around the front of the car and snickered to himself as some of those gawking students came to a complete stop as their teacher got in.

“Hello,” Ezra greeted him, and Crowley fought back the urge to lean across the space and casually kiss him.

“Hi,” He said in return. “How went your day?”

“I’m a week behind where I would have liked to be,” Ezra replied with a bit of a purse to his lips.

Crowley turned the key, “Take it whoever filled in for you didn’t do a great job?”

“She had them reading Shakespeare quietly to themselves, and then,” Ezra sighed as Crowley pulled away from the school. “She had them write papers on what they took away from the play. Honestly, I know it wasn’t a planned absence, and I understand my teaching plan seemed a bit sparse, but this? This is horrendous. Now I’m obligated to mark papers I would have never made them write, over material they didn’t properly understand.” Crowley glanced at Ezra just as he glanced back. In that split second, Crowley saw the tension and frustration melt away from Ezra. “How was your day?”

Crowley smiled because this felt so damn domestic, so entirely right. “Not so bad. Got to do arranging, I _love_ doing arrangements.”

“You always did have a bit of an artistic side. I never understood why you didn’t go into that field.”

“Didn’t have the patience.” Crowley shrugged.

“Not because of your father, then?”

“Nah, not in this case.” He said, glancing in the rear-view mirror, catching a glimpse of the seat in the back at the same time as checking the road. “Listen, I can’t … bring you guys home.”

“I wasn’t expecting it,” Ezra said with a frown. “To be perfectly honest, until I saw your car outside, I hadn’t really expected you would actually come back for me this afternoon.”

It was Crowley’s turn to frown. “When have I ever not done what I said I would?” He asked, glancing at Ezra as the other man rolled his head to the side, giving Crowley a pointed look. “When it came to you, I mean.”

Ezra seemed to ponder. “I can’t say I recall a time at all. Even when we… parted ways.”

“I regret that,” Crowley said instantly. “Regretted it the very next day when I realized what an ass I’d been.”

“As did I.” Ezra said softly.

“You weren’t the ass.”

“No, but I allowed you to say what you did, and I acted childishly in return. We were both at fault, Anthony.”

It was getting too heavy, and the drive was too short for that. Clearing his throat, Crowley searched for another topic.

“You know Anathema.” He said simply.

“I do!” Ezra perked up. “She was actually a tremendous help after the accident. She, oh, she was wonderful, I honestly don’t know what I would have done without her. She got me all the forms I needed to get everything sorted, helped me through all the telephoning and what-not. She even helped me with the paperwork for Adam, even though she had had no experience with it.”

“She is pretty great like that. Glad I gave her all that time off, knowing it helped you.” He said, smiling until he realized they were essentially now just a road away from the nursery. “Does Adam have a booster seat?” He asked, glancing again at Ezra at a red light.

Ezra paled. “He… did.” He swallowed. “It was in Gavin’s car.”

 _Oh_. Crowley didn’t need to ask, so he just nodded. “I’ll get one for Adam to have in here.”

“Oh, dear, no, you don’t have to do that.”

“How am I going to give you two a lift if I don’t have a booster for him?” Crowley asked as the traffic began to move again.

“Anthony, you don’t have to drive us. We can take the bus.”

“I want to,” Crowley said as he pulled into the side lot. He maneuvered into a parking space, set the Bentley into park, and then cut the engine. “If it’s not what you want, fine. I can back off. But I want to.”

“I know perfectly well we’re out of your way,” Ezra said softly.

“I don’t care,” Crowley said easily.

They weren’t looking at each other. Crowley was resisting the urge to turn his head and gauge Ezra’s reaction to that truth, but since he knew the other man hadn’t turned to him at all, he kept his gaze straight ahead.

Therefore, he startled when he felt Ezra’s hand over his.

He glanced over, not sure what to make of that knowing grin on Ezra’s smug face.

“I missed you, too.” He said, giggling as Anthony rolled his head back to hide his red cheeks. He couldn’t help but laugh, too, turning his hand over and giving Ezra’s hand a squeeze.

“Come on, let’s go get our boys.” He said, pulling his hand out from under Ezra’s and climbed out of the car.

 _Our boys_ , oh how he loved how that sounded, what it implied if no one knew any better.

Maybe if he was very careful, and didn’t fuck it up this time, it could happen one day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> The next chapter will be going back to their early years.
> 
> If you want to stalk my on tumblr to shout things at me you don't want to shout here this is https://mltrefry-ficwriter.tumblr.com/
> 
> Chapter title from "You're My Best Friend" by Queen


	5. Am I crazy, or is this more...

**2000**

“Umm,” Ezra said, wringing his hands as they came to the end of the path in the park just before it forked. Anthony stopped, having just begun to head toward his place, looking confused. “I… can’t go to your house today.”

“Oh,” Anthony said, utterly crestfallen.

Ezra could understand that. Ever since that first day, two months back, he and Anthony had spent nearly every day together. He would dutifully follow Anthony home every time Eliza had something after school, which once -she was satisfied that Anthony wasn’t going to hurt her brother- had been more often than not. When the Christmas holiday came around, with the exception of the actual holidays, Ezra would leave his home just after nine and spend the day with Anthony until tea time.

They would hide out in Anthony’s bedroom, finishing their homework when school had been in, and talking about anything they could think of. Sometimes they would simply enjoy one another’s company; Ezra would read a book while Anthony would play a game. Unless, of course, the game had a story, and then he would watch from the sofa while Anthony had his back against the seat, giving the back-story Ezra might have missed. The housekeeper, a very kind lady who always had a smile for them, would gently remind them when it was time for lunch, and when tea time was approaching if it was getting late and Ezra was still around. It had worked, and they were comfortable carrying on in this same fashion. Anthony’s home was big, his room open and comfortable, and there wasn’t really anyone around.

Which is why Ezra was so nervous about this next bit. “Yes, umm, my mum would like to, umm…. Well, that is to say, that, she thinks if we are going to be spending so much time together, that perhaps you should, uh, come to our place.”

During his whole spiel, Ezra felt his face grow ever warmer, and his wrists were actually feeling a bit strained from the constant movement. He peeked up at Anthony, having only just realized he hadn’t looked at the boy once through the whole thing and wasn’t sure what to make of the relatively blank expression.

At least he didn’t look so despondent anymore.

“Your mum wants me over to your house?” He asked without infliction.

“Yes,” Ezra said with a simple nod.

Anthony blinked, shrugged, then returned to Ezra’s side. “Lead the way.” He said, and Ezra let out a massive sigh of relief, causing Anthony to chuckle as they continued on. “Were you that worried?” He asked.

“Well, yes,” Ezra said, glancing at his friend. “We live very differently, Anthony. If I’m to be honest, I probably never would have had you over, if it hadn’t been for mum’s intervention.”

“Why?” Anthony frowned. “She’s seen us together around the school, she knows we’re friends.”

“It’s not out of shame in regards to you.”

“You aren’t ashamed of your home, are you?”

Ezra chewed his lip. “No, I suppose I’m not. It’s just… well, you’ll see.” He said as they left the park.

It wasn’t a terribly long walk to Ezra’s home from there. It was no more than maybe five minutes, and they were walking up the driveway to the small, single-story white house. Ezra led them up the empty, cracked driveway to the side door, opening it up and stepping inside, holding it open for Anthony.

“Who’s home?” His father called, voice not carrying far.

“Just me, Dad,” Ezra called out. “But I brought a friend.” He glanced at Anthony and was instantly filled with dread at the deep frown he was wearing.

Anthony toed off his shoes, dropping his bag a moment to remove his jacket while Ezra did the same.

He swallowed nervously as he hung his and Anthony’s jackets on the hooks, then picked up his own backpack as Anthony did the same, and they two made their way to the living room to the right.

Ezra’s father was on the couch, a book in his lap, his feet up on a footstool. He smiled at the boys as they came in, left side not really lifting all that much. His bifocals were a little low on his nose, something Ezra knew his mother would have said something about. The sun was glinting off his smooth head.

“You must be Anthony,” Thomas Fell said by way of greeting. “Ezra has said such wonderful things about you.”

Anthony, who was wide-eyed, seemed to also be speechless. And Ezra, having realized he never said anything about his dad before this, was blushing.

“He has?” Anthony asked, his expression not changing one wit.

“That he has, my boy. He did mention you had some interesting eyes. Segmental heterochromia?”

“Uh, yeah,” Anthony said.

“Cause you any problems?”

“Got better eyesight than most,” Anthony replied, very nearly sounding normal.

Ezra’s father chuckled.

“Dad, Anthony and I are going to head to my room, get our homework done,” Ezra said, his voice cracking a bit.

“Alright, you boys behave.” His Dad said with one last grin before returning his focus on the book he’d been reading.

Ezra grabbed Anthony’s wrist and pulled him along down the short hall to the room at the back right. He practically threw him inside before closing the door and leaning against it.

Anthony whirled around, eyes wide. “Holy…” Ezra watched as Anthony’s mouth moved about. “He’s… he’s your _dad?_ _”_

At least he was keeping his voice low, saving Ezra from the humiliation of going through this revelation with his dad able to hear it.

“Yes.”

“Like, your actual father, the man that made you. Not, like a grandpa who adopted you or something?”

“Yes,” Ezra hissed. “Yes, my parents are quite old.”

Anthony’s wide eyes changed from shock to alarm. “Ezra, I didn’t mean anything by it. Just… well, to be honest, I didn’t think people could have kids that… age advanced.”

Ezra burst out laughing tension seeping out, relaxing against the back of the door. That was followed by an intense wave of melancholy. “He had a stroke, the end of September.” He said quietly.

“Sorry,” Anthony said. “Truly, Ezra.”

He shrugged. “Nothing to apologize for. Just, I would appreciate it if you didn’t make a big deal of it at school.”

“I’d never do that,” Anthony said, quietly but emphatically. “And I would have a go anyone who would.”

Ezra scoffed.

“I would.” He said vehemently, and Ezra glanced to see Anthony as serious as anything. Slowly, he nodded, finally moving away from the door and setting his bag down on his bed. Anthony, seeming to understand everything was fine between them now, did the same and then looked around.

Ezra’s room was not at all like Anthony’s. For one, it was about half the size. The bed was a double and took up a good chunk of the space. There was a desk tucked into the corner with a simple chair by the window, and a rather large bookshelf crammed in the space next to it. Both were a bit overloaded, though Ezra was always sure to keep space clear on his desk for work and a cup of tea. For another, the color schemes were vastly different. Where Anthony’s walls were white with posters of art, Ezra’s were bare except for the shelves bearing knickknacks. Anthony’s furniture was black or deep red, Ezra’s was brown, tan, with tartan.

“Cozy,” Anthony said, turning about before flopping down on the bed. “Lots of books, very you.”

“You don’t have to pretend,” Ezra said, shaking his head.

“What’s there to pretend? I like it.” He lolled his head to the side, smiling up at Ezra.

Something weird went through him, a shiver or something that he was very unfamiliar with.

“Good,” Ezra said instead of looking too deep into whatever that was. “Because I’m fairly certain Mum intends for you to come by much more often.”

A knock on the door had both of them looking toward it just as Cynthia popped her head in with a smile. “Hello, you two.” She said. “I know it’s a bit cliché and all, but I have tea and biscuits in the kitchen if you want something to nibble.”

“Tea and biscuits? Alright, yeah, that’s it, we aren’t going to my house anymore.” Anthony said, rolling his head toward Ezra who giggled in spite of himself.

~C~

Anthony had been going to the Fells every day after school for a few months, and as long as his parents didn’t say anything, he was going to keep going.

Or, at least, that had been the plan until today. It was a warm, wonderful sunny day in May, without any dampness from a lingering rain. It was the perfect sort of day to sit out in the Fell’s back garden, as they’d done before, with tea and biscuits and getting to laugh as loud as they liked.

But Ezra and Eliza didn’t show in the park that morning, making their way to school. Anthony waited as long as he could before dashing to the school so he wouldn’t be late.

As the classes ticked by, it became increasingly clear that they were both absent. Normally, if Ezra missed a day, which was a rare occurrence, then Eliza would still be about. She would put up with him following her and her friends around, if only because they thought him sorta cute and liked his wit. He was beginning to feel lost with them both gone.

And worried, as they were both perfectly fine before he left their home for his around tea time. Just as the bell for lunch sounded, Anthony had ventured upstairs to ask Mrs. Fell if the siblings were alright.

His throat nearly closed up when he saw a substitute in her place.

Something was clearly, very wrong.

Which was why when the bell rang for dismissal, he wasn’t quite sure what to do with himself. He almost hung back to see what Howl and Levine had going on, then promptly deciding he just couldn’t be bothered. He then followed the path he and Ezra had taken every day since November, cutting into the park that almost acted like the middle ground between their two houses, all while debating if it was a good idea to just show up at Ezra’s house.

He walked with his head bowed, watching his feet and almost making it the whole way through the park before the screech of the swing caught his attention. He turned toward it on instinct, expecting to see a small child, and instead spotting Ezra sitting on a swing alone with his back to him.

Anthony promptly changed direction, heading toward him.

“Ezra,” He half called, slipping his bag from his shoulder in preparation to join him on the swing.

But Ezra got up, almost as if he hadn’t meant to be seen on the swing, and turned to face Anthony.

Something in the ginger boy’s heart broke or bled, or something at the look of his friend. Eyes red-rimmed and puffy, the sheen of tears still there or perhaps ongoing. His face was blotchy, causing him to be more pink than normal. He wasn’t even dressed in his casual-for his attire. He was almost worse, a regular t-shirt instead of a polo or button-down, his trousers a bit wrinkled.

“Anthony,” Ezra’s lip trembled. “He’s gone.”

“Who?” Anthony asked, slowly moving toward his friend, setting his bag on the grass as he went.

“Dad.” Ezra sniffled. “He’s gone, gone! I don’t… I don’t….”

Without warning, Ezra threw himself at Anthony, wrapping his arms around him and unleashing an almighty sob.

In an instant, Anthony was almost crying, too. He liked Thomas Fell, liked how he was always warm and kind, who tried to joke even if some of them fell flat with age. The grandfather Anthony didn’t have, the father he sort of wished his was. But he didn’t really know him all that long, and so he cried not for him, but for Ezra’s loss.

“I’m so sorry,” Anthony said, unsure for a moment what to do. Then, very tentatively and bracing for rejection, he put his arms around Ezra. When he was, somehow, held even tighter for it, Anthony squeezed more. “I’m sorry, Ezra, truly.”

“He’d been having so many problems,” Ezra half-sobbed. “He had been doing better, and then suddenly he was worse. And, and last night,” he didn’t finish, but he didn’t have to.

Anthony tried to shush him, feeling out of depth for any of this. More so when he found his body slowly trying to rock that of his friend’s, quietly repeating that it was alright despite knowing that for Ezra it very much was not.

He’d tried to think of the last time he saw Mr. Fell, which was probably about a week ago. He tried to think if he’d noticed anything different and felt a bit guilty that he couldn’t say for sure.

“When did he start getting worse?” Anthony asked, slowly pulling back. “You didn’t mention it.”

Ezra sniffed, stepping back and taking Anthony by the wrist, bringing him over to the swing set. They sat side by side, turned slightly toward one another on their rubber seats.

“I was scared too,” Ezra admitted quietly. “I thought, perhaps if I didn’t say anything then maybe things would be fine. That he’d get better. That this would just be like before, sometime in the hospital, home in bed for a bit, then slowly get back on his feet.” He sniffed again. “But I suppose, my father was nearly eighty.”

Anthony didn’t say anything, but the number still made his head spin.

He reached across and put a hand on Ezra’s shoulder, squeezing lightly. “Anything I can do?” He asked.

“You’re doing it,” Ezra replied, a very small, ever so slight upturn to his lips. “I just needed you.”

For one second, Anthony stopped breathing, and his heart skipped a beat by doing a strange sort of somersault in his chest. He was needed. Ezra needed him. He’d never done drugs or sneaked his dad’s alcohol, but he didn’t think he would ever have to. Not so long as this feeling, whatever it was, never went away.

~*~

Family dinners at the Crowleys were rare, and always awkward. There was a lot of pushing food around on plates, lots of silence filled only with the clink of cutlery on china, and once in a while, there were questions the asker had no real interest in knowing the answer to.

Well, that wasn’t entirely true, Anthony supposed.

Erica Crowley did have an interest in her son. She seemed to truly want to know about his day when she asked.

James Crowley seemed to become increasingly disappointed with his son the older he got. He wasn’t particularly interested in what his son had to say when he was small and was less so now that he wasn’t becoming the young man he expected.

But tonight was just a little more awkward than normal. Erica would glance between father and son, head half bowed but seemingly ready to leap in at a moment’s notice. James scowled: at his plate, the table, but mostly he scowled at Anthony. Who, for the most part, tried to carry on like it was any other family dinner.

He knew what was coming, he didn’t think he was going to escape the fallout, but he knew for absolute certain he regretted nothing.

They were halfway through the main course when James abruptly set down his utensils.

“Have you got nothing to say for yourself?” James demanded, looking expectantly at Anthony.

He slowly looked up at his father. “Nothing.” He responded, only quivering in fear internally.

“Nothing?” James hissed. “You. Skipped. School.”

“I did.” Anthony couldn’t really deny it. He was well aware that the school would call both his parents as soon as he didn’t show for a class. He considered it beneath him to fake an illness. And he felt no shame or remorse over what he’d done.

“’I did’? Is that all you have to say for yourself? We do not tolerate truancy in this house. What possible reason do you have for not attending your classes?” James demanded, his voice growing ever louder.

Anthony maintained an outward appearance of calm, though barely. “I went to a funeral.”

If he didn’t know he was very close to the edge of not seeing the light of day aside from school for the rest of the academic year, Anthony very well might have laughed at the stunned silence from his father and the horror from his mother.

“You… what?” It was Erica that spoke this time, blinking incomprehensibly.

“I went to a funeral,” Anthony repeated.

“For who!?” His father asked this time.

“My friend’s father.” Anthony swallowed, looking down at the table. “I just wanted to be there for him.”

“No friend I’ve met,” James grumbled, returning to his food, clearly unsettled.

“No, he and his sister started school earlier this year,” Anthony replied, resuming picking at his steak. He risked a glance, first at his father, then at his mother. His Dad was focused on his food again, seeming to have attention solely for it.

His mother, however, had a look of understanding.

“That was sweet of you, Anthony.” She said affectionately.

“It wasn’t sweet, Crowley men don’t do sweet. He was an idiot to skip school for such a minor thing, but it showed loyalty and honor. Respect.” And that was that. Anthony could tell that James had nothing more to say on the matter, at least not until dinner was done.

Anthony picked at what he could, managed to get in a few more bits before setting down his utensils and removing the napkin from his lap. “May I be excused?” He asked.

“Home after school every day for two weeks,” James said without looking up. “I will ask, and if no one has seen you within fifteen minutes of when you should’ve been home, it will be a month. Is that understood?”

“Yes, sir,” Anthony replied quickly. His father gave a grunt, and then a wave and Anthony rose from the table and made a beeline for his room.

Once behind his closed door, Anthony let out a long, shuddering breath that ended with a quivering smile.

He knew when he decided that morning to put on a suit and black tie and walk to the funeral home instead of to school that he made the right decision. He even knew, with every step closer, he wouldn’t regret the choice even if he was delivered a much more severe punishment.

He’d been surprised by how many people were gathered for Thomas Fell’s farewell. Admittedly, there were many old people. Ezra and Eliza’s cousins from their father’s side were as old as Mrs. Fell, and even their second cousins were significantly older than them. Mr. Fell had had a few remaining friends, and Mrs. Fell seemed to have a few people with her, though none were family Anthony would later learn.

Eliza had had a girl, Deidre, from school with her, holding and consoling her when Anthony had arrived. And Ezra had looked out of place, off to the side by himself, quietly allowing a few stray tears to travel down an otherwise placid face. At least, it was until he spotted Anthony, and then it broke out into a wide, watery grin.

And there, in Anthony’s chest, was that feeling again. That heart doing a somersault in a too-tight space feeling.

Anthony had smiled in turn, heading for Ezra. He was pulled into an embrace, their second one ever, right outside the funeral home.

“You’re here,” Ezra said.

“Course I am.” Anthony had replied.

“You didn’t have to come.” Ezra pulled back, straightening his tie.

It was then Anthony had noticed Ezra wasn’t wearing a suit jacket, just a black waistcoat over a dark gray shirt. “Your jacket?” He’d asked.

“Oh,” Ezra said, sniffing before grinning a bit. “I gave it away.”

“You what?” Anthony asked, baffled.

“I gave it away.” Ezra had shrugged. “My second or third cousin, I’m not sure. Eve, anyway. Well, she’s expecting, and it’s a bit chilly today, so….”

It was something Anthony had still been trying to process throughout the service. He’d held Ezra’s hand, sitting to one side of him while Mrs Fell sat on the other, sandwiched between her children. And while the family grieved, and he had felt grief for them, there was something else going through his head and heart that he hadn’t thought possible.

Which was why he was smiling through his tears of relief now, because his father merely said he had to come home, he didn’t say anything about not having anyone join him. And while he knew it meant he likely wasn’t going to see Ezra for a few days, it meant he could come by, if he wanted to, for a while after school.

Which, maybe, meant Anthony could sort out this strange feeling he had and was starting to realize he may have been having for a while.

It was extremely close to that of a crush.

But that couldn’t be it, could it?

~*~

_It_ _’s not a crush_ , Anthony thought to himself when he saw Ezra for the first time since the day of the funeral.

He’d waited each day in the park until it was getting too close to the start of the school day to put it off and would walk slowly through the park on his way home at the end of the day. He never failed to be disappointed, knowing he wasn’t able to go over and check on him.

He did write a note after that first day for Deidre to give to Ezra when she inevitably when over to the Fells after school. He didn’t want Ezra to think he didn’t want to be there, after all. But it wasn’t quite the same. Yes, they could have called each other, he supposed, but he also knew that Ezra disliked talking on the phone, seeing as how the only one in the house was in the living room.

So, Anthony went without Ezra for three days, and despite it being Friday, he still held out hope that maybe today would be the day.

And it paid off.

Because when he went to the fork in the path where he would have met up with Ezra any other day, and turned to look in the direction Ezra would come in, the blonde boy was coming up the path alone. He glanced up almost as soon as Anthony stilled, and then his face broke out into a beautiful, bright smile.

 _It_ _’s not a crush_.

They didn’t leave each other’s side, that day a blissful one in the schedule in which they had no electives that the other didn’t as well. Anthony had been asked to pay attention at least once per class because he was looking at Ezra instead of at the board. He wouldn’t even sit across from Ezra, at least for today, at lunchtime. Yes, they bumped elbows, and their knees knocked when one would turn to the other to talk, but that was alright. He’d been deprived of his best friend. But that was it, he’d just missed his best friend.

 _It_ _’s not a crush_.

Ezra’s birthday was on a Wednesday, and while Anthony hadn’t had the freedom to go out and purchase a gift like a book or an old record, he was able to get up very early, sneak out, run to a local bakery to buy a single cupcake, then run all the way back to the park while holding the box with said cupcake very carefully.

“Hey,” he said, trying to sound cool while also barely able to breathe, Ezra having already been there waiting for him.

“Hello,” Ezra replied, confused. “You… are you alright? You’re … red.”

“Yeah, fine,” Anthony wheezed. “Right, this is for you.” He said, shoving the box toward Ezra, who took it as if it were a bomb. “Happy birthday.”

While Anthony folded himself in half, trying to catch his breath, Ezra opened the box. At his gasp, Anthony was standing upright. He groaned quietly to himself when he’d seen that the cupcake got a bit jostled, the trace of blue frosting on the side of the box saying it hadn’t stayed very upright.

“Anthony,” Ezra said, and suddenly Anthony had very nearly lost his breath again. “You really didn’t have to.”

“I know,” Anthony shrugged as if he hadn’t just run half a mile and back in a very short time just to get the blasted thing.

Ezra shifted his grip on the box to one hand, and then took Anthony’s in the other, giving it a brief squeeze.

“Thank you.” He said, and for one fleeting moment, Anthony thought Ezra was going to kiss him. He had that look that people did in movies just before lips touched cheeks or lips. A weight dropped into the pit of his stomach when Ezra let go of his hand, closed the box, and cradled it carefully without his mouth coming anywhere near Anthony. “Perhaps we can share it later,” Ezra offered.

“Yeah, maybe,” Anthony replied.

_Not a crush. Not a crush. Not a crush._

~*~

It was Anthony’s birthday that spelled his doom.

Ezra had greeted him with a happy birthday in the morning, as well as a hug. It was the first affection he’d received that day, the first well wishes as well, at least in person. There had been a card on the kitchen counter with his name and an obscene amount of money for a fourteen-year-old. Inside the card wasn’t personalize in any way, except his mother’s handwriting signing it for both herself and James, with the reminder that they wouldn’t be home until very late that night due to some sort of thing for James’ company.

“Thanks,” Anthony said, proudly not blushing.

And that seemed to be the whole of it, which was fine by him.

Until lunch when Ezra insisted he cover Anthony’s as well, slipping a biscuit with sprinkles when the latter wasn’t looking.

“Y-you didn’t have to.” He stammered as he looked at the white-iced treat covered in rainbow colors.

“And you didn’t have to go get a cupcake early in the morning for me, but you had.” Ezra reminded him.

Which, alright, that was perfectly fair, and Anthony could accept it.

Therefore, he was very certain that that would be the end of it.

Until he got to the Fells after school, Ezra grinning like a loon the whole walk home.

It was perfectly normal until they got to Ezra’s room, and Anthony instantly spotted the very out-of-place edition on the desk.

“You got a plant.” He stated the obvious.

“Yes. For you.” Ezra grinned, taking the small, potted Ivy and handing it to Anthony. “Happy birthday.”

A plant. Anthony liked plants. But instead of saying this, he merely stood staring at the very small ivy in his hands.

Ezra began to wring his hand, his smile dimming. “See, I… I remember you saying you, umm…. And, well, your father, from what I could gather. Well, he wouldn’t approve of a-a flower, right? So, I thought this. And-”

“Thank you.” Anthony choked out, glancing up to meet Ezra’s eyes. “I like it, thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Ezra beamed, all that joy and brightness back in his blue eyes.

And that was when Anthony knew, without a doubt, it wasn’t a crush.

It was something more.

Something he wasn’t sure he could name, wasn’t sure he wanted to but was there all the same.

“Mum said you should stay for dinner.” Ezra carried on as if the world hadn’t shifted, and something big hadn’t just fallen into place. “I told her your parents wouldn’t be around today and she insisted.”

“Alright,” Anthony agreed, realizing that he would likely agree to anything. Fourteen was too young to feel something this big, he was sure of it.

His heart, it seemed, didn’t give a damn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back to the present next chapter
> 
> Chapter title from "Blame It On the Rain" by He is We


	6. I'm Sure He's Easier Than I Was (If You Like That Sorta Thing)

_Anthony: Got a booster_

It was, sadly, the best thing that happened to Ezra from the moment Anthony dropped him off earlier in the day. The morning, admittedly, had been a bit harried. He and Adam were a bit late, having needed to catch the second bus after the misplacement of pup-pup, the much-needed stuffed toy for nap time at school. He’d thought for absolute certain that he’d missed Anthony, not even thinking to check the sign-in sheet before darting out the door.

He’d just stepped outside when he heard a rushed, “don’t move,” from Anthony before he led Warlock inside.

Anthony was wearing sunglasses.

A moment later, he was coming back out, and the two men went for the Bentley.

“No contacts today, I’m guessing,” Ezra asked as they headed for the cafe near the secondary.

“Didn’t have time to put them in before I left. I have a spare set in my office, I’ll pop them in when I get there. Will just have to deal with security following me around the shop.”

Ezra frowned. “Why would they do that, don’t they know who you are?”

“Not my shop.” Anthony clarified. “The department store, Henricks. I gotta go there and grab the second seat for Adam.”

Ezra felt a rush of affection, tinted largely with guilt. “Oh, dear, you don’t have to do that.”

“I want to,” Anthony said firmly. “Think of how much easier it would be, not having to take the bus in the mornings. Or the afternoons for that matter.”

“It’s very kind of you, but you truly don’t need to chauffeur us around. Adam likes the bus; he thinks it’s fun.”

“And do you?” Anthony asked.

Ezra pouted, twisting his mouth. “I hate driving.” He said instead.

They’d gone to the cafe, got their stuff, and left.

“Let you know when I get it,” Anthony said as they pulled up to the school.

“I’ll be teaching,” Ezra said indignantly.

“No cell phones in class, I take it?” Anthony teased as he climbed out.

Ezra merely rolled his eyes. “Will I be seeing you at three?”

“Yes, you will,” Anthony said.

“Alright, my dear, until then,” Ezra said without thinking it through, closing the door and waving Anthony off before heading into the school.

And that was the start of the first annoyance of the day because having been seen getting out of the same car, driven by the same bloke two days in a row would have been cause for rumors enough. Having been heard calling him “dear” had the first three classes of his day ask him who his boyfriend was, and how long they’d been dating. After the first class eating nearly fifteen minutes of their time with their pointed and personal questions, he had to firmly nip the next two in the bud when the same round of interrogation started over again.

In a way, it made him think of Eliza, and for once not in a melancholy way. She’d have been just as ruthless upon hearing him utter the name Anthony Crowley for the first time in years.

If that hadn’t been bad enough, there was a problem before he even got started.

Michael, the principal of the school, approached him just after he passed by the office. He knew instantly it wasn’t going to be good news when he noted her lack of stern expression.

“I’m sorry to bother you, Ezra, but I’m afraid I’m going to have to hand these back to you.” She said as she returned all the forms, he’d filled out the day before to add Adam to his benefits.

He frowned. “Whatever for? Did I miss a signature or some such rot?”

“No,” She shook her head. “I spoke with the district supervisor, and while she claims to be sympathetic to you, she said she can’t accept those until you have your official guardianship papers.”

Ezra sighed. “I’m not sure when those will come through,” he said quietly. “I was lucky family court heard my petition as quickly as they did, rushing it given Adam’s circumstances.” And then paling, asked, “Is this going to be a problem for his enrollment?”

“I don’t know,” Michael asked. “It shouldn’t, not if your sister already had his acceptance. It just means you’ll probably have to do all the paperwork over again.”

He sighed heavily. “I’ve been through that already.” He glumly looked down at the papers in his hands. “Well, thank you, Michael.”

She merely nodded, her gentle expression returning to the look that he’d overheard the students refer to as “clenched” and turning her attention to the student body.

He’d promptly gone to class then.

So, given his morning thus far, this small bit of brightness in the form of a photo showing two booster seats in the backseat of the Bentley was like sunshine after the cold.

“You’re dating someone?” Newton Pulsifer asked as he sat down next to Ezra in the cafeteria, setting his tray of questionable school food in front of him.

When Newton started at the school two years after Ezra, he’d been new in town as well. He’d apparently finally mustered the courage to move out of his mother’s home when he realized his odd, three-wheeled car wouldn’t likely make the daily commute from Surrey to Tadfield. Ezra had taken pity on him where many of the rest of the staff avoided him and was glad he had when he realized Newton was a lovely man with a sense of humor that matched his own, and a liking of older things. Granted, Newton probably preferred older things because he had a terrible habit of breaking anything made within the last five years, but it was something they bonded over nonetheless.

Ezra sighed, however, as he was hoping his friend wouldn’t ask the same thing everyone else had. “No,” Ezra said firmly. “He’s an old friend of mine who has popped back into my life rather suddenly and quite enthusiastically. His son and Adam attend the same nursery, so he’s taken to giving me a lift.”

“Huh,” Newton asked as he poked at something that looked like it was trying to be meatloaf. “I’m surprised it wasn’t Gabriel.”

“I’m rather glad it wasn’t,” Ezra said conspiratorially as if anyone around them was actually really listening.

In the beginning, when he and Newton first began to have their lunches together, the students were quite interested, believing that there was a staff romance blooming right before their very eyes. Newton had tried to say when asked, that he was not interested in Mr. Fell in that way. That he did, in fact, prefer girls, but no one seemed to believe him. Even the other staff began to ask Ezra if he’d managed to find the one. It was when he very good-naturally told his fellow teachers where many, very gossipy students were listening that Newton was not his type in the least that the rumors had stopped.

His only regret was he hadn’t made up a girlfriend for the poor fellow.

Though it was his understanding that Anathema and he had been spending time together as of late.

“Anathema and I are meeting a friend of hers for cards tonight.” Newton offered as if the mere thought in someone else’s head had summoned him to say her name. The lad was even blushing a little. “Did you want to come?”

Ezra smiled. “Even if I wanted to, which I’m afraid I don’t, I would now need someone to watch Adam.”

“Her friend- well, boss- has a boy around his age,” Newton added. “They used to do a sleepover when they came up, kipped out on Anathema’s pullout.”

A flash of heat shot through Ezra as a realization hit him like lightning. “Anthony.” He said.

Newton frowned. “I think his name is AJ.”

“Anthony James Crowley,” Ezra said it like a curse and with reverence.

“Yeah, Crowley!” Newton said excitedly, a few students turning to see what the math teacher was excited about. Newton curled in on himself a little before turning to Ezra. “You know him?”

Ezra shook his head. “It’s like for the last ten years all either of us had to do was look a little to the left, go on one outing with one friend at the right time, and we’d have been together again.”

“So… that’s a yes?”

“Yes, Newton, I know him.” Ezra sighed, deciding maybe it was time to focus on his sandwich before time ran out.

After a moment, Newton asked, “Are you going to be going to the pub on Friday? Because if you don’t, it will likely be me and Anathema again, and after last week-”

“Newton.” Ezra interrupted him. “Do you really want to be discussing this here, now, when there are at least a dozen nosy busybodies within hearing range, dying for a tidbit of something to chat about?”

Newton promptly blushed, nodded once, and consumed whatever it was he had in front of him, allowing Ezra the chance to eat his sandwich in peace.

~*~  
  


Ezra hadn’t left the school so quickly in years. He was packing up as fast as the students were during the last period, and was out the door as soon as the last student left. He closed up, and headed down the hallway, slowly making his way along to the front. He could practically smell the leather and cedar smell of the inside of the Bentley, something he hadn’t properly taken in until this morning when things were more relaxed.

“Mr. Fell,” caught his attention, and he physically deflated a little. He turned to Michael and put on a smile.

“Yes, Principal Bright.” He said as bubbly as he could manage. There was a twitch in his cheek and a pulsing behind his eyes.

“Please, don’t forget there will be a parent/teacher conference next week.” She said without a trace of emotion on her face. “Seeing as now you need to make arrangements ahead of time.”

“Yes, thank you for the reminder.” He said as kindly as he could manage.

“Has White’s covering your class caused you any trouble?” She asked.

His smile was falling away more and more by the second, barely more than a skeleton from its already thin beginnings. “Not a terrible amount. We’ll be caught up in no time.”

“Good.” She said, then turned and headed back into the office.

Ezra sighed, letting his smile drop as he finished crossing the lobby and left.

He knew, logically, he should probably stay longer after school. But he’d never been one to sit around his classroom to mark, and after witnessing a few, less than dedicated teachers leave promptly at last bell, he decided he would as well. Prior to Adam, there had been days he would have stayed longer, but now he couldn’t see how that was feasible.

He supposed he had until four o’clock to get him before it was a problem.

But now he also had Anthony picking him up.

And that blessed man was there waiting for him, parked near the end of the line. Ezra went straight for him, not caring in the least if everyone was watching him. He opened the door quick and loud enough that Anthony startled despite the music playing rather loudly. Ezra climbed in and may have shut the door a little too roughly before tilting his head back and closing his eyes.

Anthony turned down the music.

“Have a rough day?” he asked.

“I’ve had far worse, especially recently,” Ezra said as he rubbed at his closed eyes. “But in general? Yes, today was what one would call a rough day.”

“We have some time before we need to get the boys,” Anthony said soothingly. “We can get a coffee or tea first, you can talk about it if you’d like.”

Ezra opened his eyes and turned toward that beautiful, earnest face. “No, thank you, dear. Much as I appreciate the offer, I have marking to be done and grading to catch up on, as well. And I still want to try and keep Adam as close to the routine he had with his mother as possible.”

Anthony nodded. “Just,” he said as he turned the ignition over. “Just know I’m here, alright? To talk, I mean, if you want to. Any time.”

“And I appreciate that. Truly.” Ezra said, beginning to feel himself relax. They merged into the cue to leave the school, and Ezra fastened his seat belt a bit belatedly.

“Booster was alright, then?” Anthony asked, glancing at Ezra.

Ezra looked to him, and then in the back. “Yes? Why wouldn’t it be? It hardly looks different from the one Adam had before, and you already installed it so it’s hardly like I have to deal with that aspect.”

“Well,” Anthony said as they neared the front of the cue. “I hadn’t really asked, had I? I just said I was going to do it and went out and did it. Didn’t consult you much on it.”

“It’s fine, dear,” Ezra said, briefly touching his hand to Anthony’s knee as he absently checked for traffic out his window when they got to the front of the cue. “And, if I’m honest, you’re not the first one to do something like this, get a seat for my nephew to accommodate us both in their life.”

“No?” Anthony asked, glancing over his shoulder and pulling out of the drive.

“No.” Ezra pursed and lips and shook his head. “I think it was within two days of my telling him about what happened to Eliza that Gabriel went out and got a booster.”

The car jerked to a very sudden stop, and a car horn blared behind them. Ezra turned sharply to Anthony whose eyes were wide, and his cheeks dark pink as he waved apologetically before promptly resuming driving.

“Sorry, there… road… bird. Gabriel, you say?” He said as his grip on the wheel tightened. “As in… Kronk?”

“Yes, as in… Kronk.” Ezra confirmed, watching Anthony carefully out of the corner of his eye.

He appeared perfectly calm, completely unaffected. Which, if Ezra remembered Anthony correctly, meant that there was something about Gabriel that made his friend uneasy. He narrowed his eyes but said nothing, instead of waiting for Anthony to either continue or change the subject.

“So, you talk to him? Gabriel. Like, a lot, or?”

Ezra hummed. “About once a week, or once every two weeks we’d get together for a drink, maybe dinner. On occasion, he’d join me and others at the pub. But those are the days he chooses to work from home, most days he commutes to London.”

“So, why doesn’t he just _move_ to London,” Anthony asked in a snide, mocking way. “Save a fortune on petrol if he did.”

 _Ah, so that_ _’s how it’s going to be,_ Ezra thought to himself as he fought to hold back a grin, and barely succeeding.

“Oh, well, the cost of living, of course. And when I changed my plans to move there myself, he wanted to join me.” And then, because he’d had a really bad day, and he really couldn’t help himself, he added, “He wanted us to get a flat together.”

Ezra cracked just a little bit of a grin as the car made a slight jerk. He promptly turned his head toward the window to keep Anthony from seeing it, though his shaking shoulders might give away his contained giggles.

“Oh, well, a flat. How… nice. And you didn’t because…?” Anthony asked, flailing one hand about.

“Well, I was moving here to be with Eliza. Would have defeated the whole purpose of my being here to help and support her if I was shacking up with a bloke half-way across town.”

“And, were you two… in the type of relationship where… shacking up meant…?”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Anthony. No, I was not dating Gabriel, nor have I ever.” He shook his head and chuckled quietly as all the tension left Anthony for a second.

“Good,” Anthony said, though he didn’t sound as relieved as he looked.

“Is it?” Ezra asked innocently.

Anthony shook his head, mumbling under his breath, but there was a little humor to his lips now.

Though talk of Gabriel did remind Ezra of one thing. “I would love for you and I to take the boys out to the park again this weekend, weather permitting, of course,” Ezra said as Anthony pulled into the lot of the Nursery, finding a spot quickly. “But I do remember saying to Gabriel last week that we may be up to seeing him as well.”

Anthony cut the engine, his movements slow. “What does… what does Gabriel usually, ah, do? With you? And… Adam?”

“Well,” Ezra frowned. “If it were just he and I, we may have gone to a museum, or perhaps a show if there is one we can both agree on. But if I have Adam with me it’s almost a guarantee that we’d be out at the football field, and those two would kick a ball around, usually convince me to do so as well before my… softness becomes a factor.”

“I’ll never make you kick a football around,” Anthony grumbled. “But I’m sure we’ll come up with something, aside from the park, I mean. And I can… workaround… him.”

“Thank you, my dear,” Ezra said, this time putting his hand over Anthony’s where it still rested on the steering wheel.

“Yeah, yeah,” Anthony grumbled before getting out of the car, Ezra doing the same, and heading to the nursery to get the boys.

~*~

Adam and Warlock had been over the moon when they realized they were going to be leaving together, and the short ride to the Fell’s flat was loud despite multiple requests, politely and less so, to settle down. Or, as Anthony growled once, to “shut up.”

It had deterred them from their loud for perhaps ten seconds. Ezra was going to need a cup of tea, and some paracetamol as soon as he got in the flat.

Which meant it was both a relief and disappointment when Anthony pulled up in front of the old book shop.

“I’ll text you later about picking you both up in the morning,” Anthony said as Ezra began to climb out.

“Probably wise,” He said with a pointed look at the loud ones in the back. He moved the seat, got Adam out of the booster, and made sure his nephew had his backpack before righting the seat and closing the door. He gave Anthony a wave, who returned it before getting ready to pull away.

“Coo-ee, Ezra,” Marjorie called, and Ezra turned toward her and smiled.

She was dressed as her medium self, with her hair in a bright, red wig and her fake eyelashes too large to ever be thought of as real. She came toward them with a large, white envelope in her hand.

“Hello, my dear,” Ezra said when she was closer, leaning in to place a kiss on each of her cheeks in which she returned. “How are you?”

“I’m well, dear, how are you? How are you doing?”

“Very well,” he replied.

“I made a friend!” Adam announced, and Marjorie turned her attention to him.

“Have you, dear? What’s his name?”

“His name is Warlock Crowley,” Adam said proudly.

Marjorie blinked, made more comical by the over-large lashes.

“Would you like to come up for some tea?” Ezra offered, gesturing to the back stairs.

“No, I’ve got a client coming by for a private reading soon.” She said as she gestured to her own little shop next door. “The postman came by today with an envelope for you that needed a signature.”

“Oh, well, thank you for taking care of that for me,” Ezra said as he took the offered envelope.

“He said he left the rest back at the flat.” She said as she flapped her hand. “Anyway, dearie, I need to head back. I’ll stop by later in the week.” And then she leaned in and quietly said, “I want to hear all about that young man that dropped you two by.”

“Oh,” Ezra said, flushing a little, “well, that’s-”

“That was Warlock’s dad! He’s got a really nifty car, and sometimes he’s got these eyes that look like a dragon, it’s so cool!” Adam interrupted.

Marjorie looked to Ezra, wide-eyed, a look that told him she would want to know _everything_ very soon.

“Well, you two take care.” She said, smoothing down Adam’s hair a moment before waving to Ezra and heading back to her shop.

The Fells turned to head up to the flat, and as they climbed the stairs, Ezra glanced down at the envelope in his hand.

It was from the family court.

He genuinely couldn’t decide if he was relieved or apprehensive. He hoped beyond hope that this was the papers proving he was now Adam’s sole and legal guardian. He feared it was some sort of denial, though he couldn’t imagine what or who would cause the process to not be finalized.

His hands shook a bit as he unlocked the door and let an oblivious Adam in. He grabbed the mail out of the box, then followed his nephew inside. He toed off his shoes, hung up his jacket, and walked to the table where he deposited everything.

His head still pounded a little, the stress from the day lingering in his bones. This was going to either add to it or take some of it away. It would be quite illogical of him to alleviate some of that stress if there was a chance of adding to it.

Before he could dither on it, he grabbed the large, white envelope and tore it open, pulling the papers out and reading it over.

It declared him Adam’s sole guardian, just as the judge ruled two weeks ago.

He breathed a sigh of relief and closed his eyes. That was done. He could fill in the papers again, or just hand the stupid things back over to the secretary, get her to make a copy of the custody papers for the district office, and that would be the end of it.

He still would have to deal with his bastard of a landlord, but there were only a couple of months left on his lease, anyway, and he hadn’t gotten around to signing the renewal beforehand.

“Can I have a snack, Uncle Ezra?” Adam asked, wandering into the kitchen from wherever he had temporarily disappeared to.

“Yes,” Ezra replied, setting down the papers before turning to snag a packet of crackers from the cupboard. “Cheese or peanut butter?” He asked.

“Peanut butter,” Adam replied, and Ezra went about the mundane task of fixing a snack, flicking on the electric kettle for tea. “Can I have some apple, too?”

Ezra frowned. “I suppose.” He agreed. “But no more, or you’ll spoil your dinner.”

“Alright,” Adam relented, going into the fridge where there were packs of apple slices, plucking one out on his own while Ezra finished getting the crackers together.

It hit him hard, in that moment, that this was the every day, now. Ezra hadn’t realized until just the second that he had a deep-seated fear that something was going to come up and rip Adam away from him, too. Yes, things happen, accidents occurred, but there was no longer any man-made impediment that could break them apart. With a shuddering breath and watery smile, he handed Adam the plate. The boy gave a tentative grin in return, then carefully came up to Ezra’s legs, shifting the plate to the same hand holding the apple slices, hugged him.

“It’ll be alright, Uncle Ezra,” Adam said confidently. “Mum’s alright where she is. And she’s with nana and pop-pop.”

“Yes, she is,” Ezra agreed, running his hand over Adam’s curls. “Now, go have your snack.” He added with a kiss on his crown and letting the boy go.

The kettle whistled, Ezra made his tea, and he returned to the table to sort through the mail.

Bills, one with Eliza’s name still on it, the call to the company having come just after their billing period, but the others were his. Junk, there was always junk mail, and a letter addressed to Eliza.

Ezra frowned, turning the envelope about. There was a printed address in the corner, but no indication of who sent it. The hand-written addressee information made Ezra believe it couldn’t have been anything serious. He wrote “return to sender - deceased” on the front, set it aside to be dropped in the mail the following day, and decided he would look over those blasted papers White had made the students write.

~C~

_Gabriel!?_

It hadn’t left Crowley’s head from the moment Ezra said his name. It made him sick to think on, it made him rage with jealousy and want to weep with fear. He would never, ever admit it, but he really did forget everything there was to know about operating a motor vehicle the very moment the name left Ezra’s lips at the onset. And again when he made Crowley aware that _they had_ _discussed living together_.

He thought about it while doing the books for the shop on the sofa while Warlock played. He thought about it through dinner, that lingering whisper in the back of his mind while his son told him tales of the nursery. It stewed through bath and story, and when Warlock was put to bed it spewed in his brain, teasing him.

_Gabriel!_

The American idiot with the nice hair, and the broad shoulders, and the purple-ish eyes. Did Ezra have a thing for unique eyes, was that it? It wouldn’t have been the perfect teeth or the (then, anyway) wash-board abs. Or the chin. Perfect chin, strong, great for punching.

Crowley ran a hand down his face and sneered.

_Gabriel._

His heart fell in the pit of his stomach when he reminded himself that this meant over the last decade, while Crowley was first being stubborn, then a coward, and then trying to move on, Gabriel had been there with Ezra. He might have been the one to hold his hand, to be the shoulder Ezra cried on when he first lost his mother, and then Eliza. Hell, they were on good enough terms that Gabriel had bought a god damn booster for his probably ugly car.

 _Gabriel_ _…._

He had taken one look at Ezra all those years ago and Crowley had hated him for being attracted to the blonde on sight ever since.

There was a knock on the door, and Crowley spun, stalking toward it. He flung it open.

“Gabriel. Haven.” He spat instead of greeting Anathema and Newt like a normal person.

Newt’s eyes grew wide in a way they hadn’t since the first time he’d seen Crowley without contacts or sunglasses.

Anathema grimaced. “I warned you.”

“You didn’t say it was _that_ fucker.” Crowley hissed before stepping away from the door and allowing them to enter.

“Well, to be honest, I wasn’t sure if you knew him.” Anathema defended as she set the bottle of wine she brought on the kitchen island. “I know you didn’t finish Oxford, and I wasn’t sure when Ezra had met Gabriel while he was there.”

“Our first year,” Crowley replied as he went to the drawer and found his bottle opener. “First day, actually. At a mixer. He wore some sort’ve shirt with a school on it. Not Oxford, American high school.” Crowley gestured at his chest before aggressively going at the cork. “Ezra called him _pretty_.”

“Well,” Anathema shrugged.

“Don’t!” Crowley warned, ripping the cork from the bottle and pointing it at Anathema like a weapon.

“You know they aren’t dating, right?” Newt asked as he opened the box of cards, shuffling them before dealing.

“It’s not the point.” Crowley smacked his hand on the counter. “The point is… the point is….”

“You’re in love with Ezra, and Gabriel is a long-term rival who had the decade you were an idiot to make up ground?” Anathema said very casually as she gracefully moved around the island to get three wine glasses.

Crowley scowled.

“I didn’t even know you knew each other,” Newt said with a grin. “He figured it out today, actually, when I mentioned you and Lock used to stay over at her place. Still didn’t want to come, though. But, you know, I had to invite him. I always do.” He said as he joined them at the island.

“Don’t tell me that,” Anthony said, shaking his head, throwing his hand in the air. “I can’t, I can’t deal with how many ridiculous little ways we could have started talking again. It’s too much, it’s like God, or Satan or someone is having a go at me.”

“Ezra said something along the same lines.” Newt grinned, and Anathema smirked at him.

“It’s clearly because there are forces at work trying to shove you them back together because they’re both idiots in their own special way,” Anathema said as she poured them each a glass.

“Can you still be properly in love with someone after ten years of not seeing them?” Crowley asked as he picked up his drink and moved to the table.

“Yes,” Anathema said without any room for argument.

Newt began to deal out the cards. “It’s a nice place you have.” He commented as he looked around. “I like the openness of it.”

“Thanks,” Crowley sighed, then after a beat whined. “They’re dating. Ezra is dating that idiot.”

“They aren’t,” Anathema and Newt said at the same time.

“Dinner once a week? Or a drink?” Crowley pointed out.

“And did I not go down once a week and have a drink with you while you were in London?” Anathema pointed out. “Did you not do the same thing with Bee at the end of every week?”

“You and Bee don’t have feelings for me, it’s different. Gabriel’s sort’ve had his eye on Ezra right from the start.” He sighed.

“When did you like him?” Newt asked. “Ezra, I mean. Because clearly, you don’t like Gabriel.”

“Fourteen,” Crowley replied.

“Years ago?”

“No, about when we were fourteen. Though, I suppose I was struggling a bit with the idea of having a crush on him at thirteen.”

“Oh,” Newt said, blinking dumbly. “So, it wasn’t like… you all met in university, and it was some love triangle thing?”

“Are you a closet romantic, Newt?” Anathema teased. Or, maybe she was flirting, she was looking a bit coyly at him.

Newt blushed.

“So, exploding cats.” Crowley abruptly changed the subject, deciding that he could lament over this newly discovered information later.

They just settled down when Crowley’s phone rang.

“Shit.” He said, getting up again and going to the island where he’d left it earlier in the evening while he was moping. He reached for it, pausing just a fraction of a second when he saw the name on the screen, then snatched it up while clearing his throat. “Hey,” He said, keeping his voice as casual as he could.

“Oh, hello,” Ezra said rather cheerfully on the other end. “I do hope I’m not calling at a bad time. I got a bit distracted by papers, and then the whole bedtime routine. Afraid I don’t have that down very well, yet.”

“It’s fine, Ezra,” He said, accidentally earning the full attention of the pair at the table. He glared at them before heading up the stairs. “What’s up?” He asked as he ducked into his office, closing the door almost all the way, and then sat in his ridiculous throne chair.

“I’m afraid I have a favor to ask you,” Ezra said nervously. “Do feel free to say no, and know I will gladly return the favor whenever you need it should you agree.”

“Angel.” Crowley interrupted gently.

“Yes, right. Well, you see, next week there are parent/teacher conferences at the school, and unfortunately, that means I will be needed after what would be normal hours.”

“Uh-huh.”

“And, umm, well… you know, I can ask Marjorie, really, she’s usually very willing to-”

“Ezra, if you need someone to look after Adam, I’m more than happy to.”

“Are you sure? You have Warlock as well. And I was thinking at first it would make sense because you’d be there picking Warlock up from the nursery, but now, well, that seems like far too much work, and Marjorie’s right next door-”

“Angel.” He said much more firmly this time, silencing Ezra. “I will watch Adam, no payment or repayment required.” And then, because if he was going to sink himself in a pit of boiling sulfur, as it were, he might as well do it thoroughly. “You can stay at my place if you’d like. Could pack you both overnight bags, stay here for the night. I’ve got an extra room, I’m sure the boys wouldn’t mind bunking together. Saves us from waking them up just to bring you and Adam back to yours.” And then, as if he’d need to sell it, “Newt knows where I live, so he can drive you here after.”

His heart beat painfully in his chest as he waited for Ezra to think it over. He’d have worried about breathing too heavily if he’d been breathing at all.

This was too fast, wasn’t it? This was lightning speed when he should probably be toning it down. But then, oh, what if he hadn’t mentioned anything? And suddenly there was the awful idea of Ezra declining, maybe getting Gabriel to pick him and Adam’s up from Crowley’s and drive them home afterward.

Just as Crowley was working himself up to a panic attack, Ezra very quietly said, “alright, if… if it’s not an imposition.”

Crowley almost fell off his chair.

“Really?” He asked, then immediately threw his head back against the chair, because _really_?

“Well, you make a sound argument,” Ezra explained as if he needed to give one. “The boys should be asleep by the time I’m done at the school, and lord knows there is always one parent who purposely books time at the end thinking I have nowhere else to be, it happens every year, sometimes twice a year. And even if everything worked out, and I actually _did_ get out on time, the bus ride home would be awful. Adam is not, at all, one that should be woken up for anything short of an emergency.”

“Right,” Crowley said because he was trying to pull himself back together.

“Well, I’m infinitely glad that worked out,” Ezra said, sounding quite pleased with himself. “Just tickety-boo, isn’t it?”

“Tickety-boo?” Crowley repeated, losing whatever slight grip he’d had on his mind.

“Yes. Well, I really shouldn’t be keeping you. And- Oh, oh dear this was your card night with Newton and Anathema. I’m so sorry, my dear, I hadn’t even thought. Well, that is to say, I hadn’t realized just how many little connections there’d been between us.”

“Right, yeah. Cards. Should probably… do that.” He said, getting up quite abruptly and throwing the door open.

Anathema was right on the other side, lips sucked in and her eyes bright with a dozen, teasing questions.

“Yes, well, enjoy yourself. Until tomorrow then.”

“Right, bye,” Crowley said, ending the call.

He brushed past her, heading down the stairs where Newt was being a good sport and waiting, praying that she wouldn’t say anything.

“Angel?” She practically shouted, which prompted him to turn around and shush her with a glare. “You call him angel!” She continued, nearly at the same volume she had started at.

“Warlock is sleeping!” He hissed.

“You. Call. Him. Angel.” She said, poking him in the chest. “You have a pet name for him.”

“It’s an old name.” He said, continued to the table. “I don’t even remember why.” He lied.

“Newt, he calls Ezra ‘angel.”

“I gathered that,” Newt said from where he sat patiently at the table, his wine either untouched or he was on his second.

“Daddy,” Warlock’s voice came as his door opened, and Anthony glanced at Anathema, rolling his eyes at her.

“It’s alright, Lock.” He said as he quickly went back up and met his son in the hallway. He reached down and scooped him up, settling him against his side as he brought the very sleepy boy back to bed. “Auntie Anathema just can’t keep her mouth shut.”

“She’s being really loud, dad.” He grumbled sleepily.

Crowley kissed his cheek before stage whispering, “I’ll tell her to shut up, how’s that?”

Warlock giggled, and Crowley smiled at him before setting him down in bed. He tucked the blankets back around Warlock, brushing his long strands of black, straight hair behind his ear before kissing his brow. It was very possible the boy was asleep before Crowley even left the room. He closed the door and headed right to the kitchen.

Anathema looked at him gleefully.

“No, we aren’t talking about it, not tonight. Not for a while.” He said as he sat back down, much to Newt’s relief and Anathema’s annoyance. “We’re going to play the game; we’re going to enjoy ourselves.”

~*~

In all the lows and highs of yesterday, and then with the evening among friends, Crowley had forgotten to tell Ezra the details of picking him up. Something he only realized when he pulled up outside the bookstore and didn’t see them waiting outside. He groaned loudly, frustrated, tempted to beat his head against the steering wheel.

“What’s wrong, dad?” Warlock asked.

“I forgot to tell Adam’s uncle when we’d be here.” He said, getting out his phone, and then hesitating. He could go up, knock, not step a foot inside. But it felt wrong, and he didn’t want to leave Warlock alone in the car, and it was a hassle to-

“Do NOT unbuckle yourself.” He said just as he caught Warlock attempting to do just that in the mirror. The little boy startled, looking wide-eyed at the back of Crowley’s head in that terrified wonderment children had at getting caught doing something when they didn’t think their parents could see.

“I can go up and get them!”

“No, you’re going to stay right there.” He said, turning to look more firmly at his son.

He then noticed the pair hurrying down the stairs. Ezra brought Adam over to the car and opened the passenger side door.

“It’s been a morning.” He said as he pushed the seat back and helped Adam in. “I forgot my briefcase upstairs.”

“No rush, go up and grab it.” Crowley said with a wave of his hand.

“Thank you. Just be a quick moment.” Ezra said as he dashed back for the stairs.

Crowley looked in the mirror, seeing Adam buckling himself in. “Your Uncle not have his morning tea?” He asked with a smirk

Adam frowned. “I don’t think Uncle Ezra slept last night.” He said.

“He didn’t sleep?” Warlock asked, eyes wide.

Adam shook his head, then shrugged. “He does that sometimes. My mum used to say he’s got insomnia.”

“Insomnia,” Crowley corrected.

“What’s that mean?” Warlock asked.

“It means that Adam’s uncle can’t sleep.”

Warlock pursed his lips. “You don’t have that.” He said with certainty before looking at Adam. “My dad loves to sleep. A lot.”

Ezra appeared at the top of the stairs leading to the flat and began to hurry down them. Just as he hit the sidewalk, his head shot up from where he was watching his feet and looked to the left. Crowley frowned and tried to follow Ezra’s gaze.

“Son of a bitch.” He said under his breath, watching as Gabriel Haven grinned broadly, warmly at Ezra. Watched him throw a thumb over his shoulder, which had Crowley glancing in his mirror.

Okay, so the car directly behind his (which was not there when he pulled up) wasn’t ugly. It was kind of nice in that expensive car way. Ferrari or Porsche, he was sure. Something fast.

He glanced back in time to see Ezra, while still holding eye contact with Gabriel, gesture at Crowley’s Bentley.

Gabriel turned his head, locking eyes with Crowley. He gave the smug, American bastard a shark-like grin and a little wave, pleased by the surprise and uncertainty that came into those violet eyes before he gave a cursory wave in return before turning back to Ezra.

Ezra nodded vigorously at something Gabriel said, still wringing his hands, but had brought his lips in his mouth for a moment. He said something a bit hesitant looking, and Gabriel looked down at his feet.

Good, he appeared uncertain. Perhaps Crowley’s reappearance in Ezra’s life affected him the same way the realization that Gabriel never left affected Crowley.

He said something else, head shooting back up so he would meet Ezra’s eye, and Ezra smiled. He nodded, his hands ceasing their wringing against the handle of his briefcase. Gabriel put his own hands out to the side, clearly open to whatever it was Ezra said before he brought his hands together, the clap loud enough to be heard dimly in the car.

And Ezra, blessedly, started to move to the passenger side of the Bentley.

As he opened the passenger side and set his briefcase on the floor, Crowley heard Ezra say, “Absolutely.”

“Alright, Sunshine,” Gabriel replied as Ezra checked Adam’s belts, and Crowley sneered.

Then Gabriel had the absolute nerve to lean in over Ezra’s shoulder and smile at Adam. “Have a good day at school, buddy.”

“Bye, Mr. Haven.” Adam waved, and if Crowley wanted to imagine he was just being polite, then he would.

The movement of Gabriel’s hand caught his eye, and something twisted in Crowley’s gut as he noted the casual placement of that well-manicured hand on Ezra’s lower back. And, frankly, how unperturbed Ezra was by it.

Ezra straightened up, put a hand on Gabriel’s shoulder as he said bye, and then climbed in the Bentley.

He seemed to take a breath before turning to Crowley with an arched brow while buckling in. “Am I correct in assuming your offer of a lift in the mornings is a standing one?”

“As long as I don’t have somewhere I gotta be, yeah.”

Ezra pursed his lips. “I probably should have said as much. It may be that Gabriel is going to try and race here some mornings in order to ‘beat you to the punch’, as they say.”

“Could just tell him beforehand,” Crowley said as he pulled away from the side of the road. “Maybe when you talk to him later?”

He glanced at Ezra, and in that fraction of a second Crowley glimpsed a sight he hadn’t seen in what felt like an age. It sent a thrill down his spine, that slight quirk of his lips, barely there. The infinitesimal narrowing of Ezra’s eyes that changed their shade to a darker blue.

“Maybe I will,” Ezra replied. “Or, I suppose it can wait for the weekend since he wants to do something on the day we are not.”

Crowley’s grip on the wheel tightened just a hair. “Made plans with him, have you?”

“Well, they were a bit longer standing than any I’d made with you.” He said casually, and Crowley’s jaw clenched just a touch. “Oh, Anthony.” Ezra chided, his whole tone changing. “I can be friends with you both, just like back in University.”

“Right,” Anthony said.

After a beat, Ezra shifted to look in the back seat. “Did your father tell you that you and Adam will be having a sleepover next week?”

There were excited gasps and a clamoring of excitement that nearly rivaled that of the day before.

A sleepover. Right, Ezra had agreed to that. Something Gabriel certainly hadn’t gotten.

Had he?

Crowley decided not to wonder about that too much, and pretend this was something he would have up on the smug bastard.

It would be, after all, one of hundreds he and Ezra have had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're going to be jumping back and forth between teen years and grown years over the next few chapters.  
> Thank you to everyone reading. And if someone was conveniently cutting onions while you were reading the last chapter, sorry.
> 
> Chapter title from "Way, way back" by Matt Nathanson


	7. When he's standing near, I disappear

**2001**

The summer air was warm, a lingering humidity in the air making the night a touch more enjoyable. There was some sort of chirping bug somewhere in the bushes, and the quiet thump of music coming from inside the house in the vicinity of Eliza’s bedroom.

“London,” Ezra said, stretched out beside Anthony as they laid out on a blanket in the back yard of his house, staring up at the sky.

Anthony looked at him out of the corner of his eye, and let that heart-fluttering feeling wash over him.

It had been over a year since finally admitted to himself that he had a crush on Ezra. A year of trying to shake it off for

He’d kissed a girl before he met Ezra. That summer, before, actually. Jane, a girl he’d sort of fancied and who would be moving before the new school year began. He’d taken a chance of kissing her just around the corner of the school and found they both liked it. There were a few more kisses exchanged, but it was forgotten when she was gone, and no one else had caught his attention again.

At least, not until Ezra.

It wasn’t that he hadn’t already noticed he found men attractive. He was infinitely glad his family didn’t do things like movie nights, knowing that it may get a bit awkward from time to time. But he’d never had an interest in the blokes he knew in real life. He never looked at any of his male classmates like he’d looked at Jane and decided he wanted to kiss them.

He wanted to kiss Ezra. In a way, he was glad Mrs. Fell still insisted they spend much of their time at the Fell residence because it left them far fewer opportunities to be alone. In his wing of the Crowley house, they were rarely bothered, and there were just so many great surfaces to snog on….

“Isn’t that a bit obvious?” He asked, frowning up at the sky and pulling himself back in the conversation.

“Maybe? I could see you in London.” Ezra said, turning his head slightly, smiling a little.

So close, so damn close. Right there, he could just turn his head. As it was, Anthony’s eyes fell on Ezra’s lips for a moment.

He looked away as quickly as he could. “Big house,” he said thoughtfully. “No, a big _flat_ right in the center of it all. See Big Ben out my front window.”

Ezra giggled. “Suppose one day you could afford that.”

“You might, too.” Anthony insisted. “Besides, all big writers live in London.”

“I’m _not_ going to be a writer,” Ezra said emphatically. “I like to read; I have no desire to write.”

“You like music, but don’t want to play. You like theater, but don’t want to act. You like books, but don’t want to write them.”

“I like to take pleasure in things,” Ezra said in a haughty way no normal teenager would ever sound.

And that was another reason why Anthony was finding himself arse over teakettle for his best friend. He’d gone through two years, or nearly so, of this new school where people were less tolerant. And yet, he never changed, not one bit. He still dressed a bit too nice for a casual day, foregoing denims and t-shirts for trousers and button-downs. He liked to read and preferred his music from before the sixties. He had made no move to change his accent or his speech patterns and stayed exactly who he was when he moved.

Anthony adored that, even if he wasn’t brave enough to be himself entirely just yet.

“Alright, fine. Head curator for the biggest museum, then?”

“Not sure that makes a lot of money.” Ezra pursed his lips. “But, I’m not sure I would want a big flat of my own. Seems it would get quite lonely.”

“We’d live together,” Anthony said without thinking and felt his throat close up a bit. He held his breath, waiting for what came next.

“Maybe we would,” Ezra said so cheerfully that it was both a relief and massive disappointment. “Oh, we could be roommates! That would be delightful.”

“I snore.”

“You do not, would you stop assuming that?”

“Then why don’t you sleep more often?” Anthony asked his slip up in hopes and dreams forgotten for now.

“I told you, some nights I just don’t sleep. The physician says it's insomnia, and since my father had it, it’s likely a hereditary thing. One might say Eliza got all the good traits, and I got what was leftover.”

“You’re prettier than her,” Anthony said without thinking and wanted to smack himself in the face.

“Yes, that’s whatever young man wants to hear. I’m pretty. Thank you, Anthony, you’ve bolstered my confidence tremendously.”

Instead of replying, Anthony made a face and mocked Ezra quietly.

It still earned him a smack on the gut. He couldn’t help but smile, catching Ezra’s hand a moment before letting it go. Ezra touched him casually, often, seemingly without thought put into it. He wasn’t afraid to hug Anthony when they exchanged gifts during holidays and birthdays, or when he seemed to need one after a long day. He would touch his arm, his shoulder, his back, take his hand now and then for a few brief, wonderful seconds.

In quiet moments like this, where it felt safe, Anthony would do the same. This was why they were laying on the blanket as close as they were, arms and shoulder brushing from time to time. The Fells was a safe space. Anthony’s bedroom a lesser one, alone anywhere was risky but doable. But at school, Anthony would never voluntarily clasp his hand like he just had. He just wouldn’t pull away, either.

But, if Ezra _knew_ , would he stop? Would he hesitate before offering the affection he so easily provided?

“Where did you want to go to school?” Ezra asked quietly.

“We’re fifteen, why are we talking about this?” Anthony asked.

Ezra’s eyes fell to where his hands were now resting against his chest, wringing them slightly. “I’ve wanted to go to Oxford.” He said. “And I’ve been researching scholarships.”

“Oh,” Anthony said, understanding dawning on him.

He could go anywhere.

There was already a large chunk of money set aside for his education, separate from the inheritance he was meant to get at twenty-five. So long as he kept his grades up to snuff, he could have his pick. Applying wasn’t likely going to be daunting, not with a family name like his.

Ezra was likely less likely.

“I’d wondered… since we’re… well, I wonder what the chances are we could live together then, too? You know it’s hard for me to make friends, I’m not one for people.”

“Don’t you and Liza do everything together?” Anthony asked.

As if to make a point, A shrill squeal came from an opening window, the pop music that was muted before much louder.

Ezra cringed. “Much as I love my sister, I’m afraid we’re much less ‘joined at the hip’ these days.” He said with a cringe. “I’m joined to anyone’s hip, it’s yours.”

 _Dirty thoughts, go away,_ Anthony immediately commanded his body, suddenly very aware that the warm, summer air left them outside with only their thing jim-jams.

The back door opened, and Ezra craned his head up. “Hello, mum.”

Mrs. Fell, who seemed to have aged twice as fast since her husband died, shot an exasperated look over her shoulder at her daughter’s window before she came and knelt beside them.

“It’s nearing eleven. I expect you boys to be in your tent no later than eleven-thirty.” She said with mock sternness.

“Yes, but if we’re in the tent, how do you know we’ll be asleep?” Anthony asked, propping himself up on one elbow, realizing only a moment too late how that could sound.

But it wasn’t like that would be the immediate conclusion most people would jump to. Because it was so very common for two teenage boys to camp out together, even share a tent. To most, it meant nothing because most didn’t have a crush on their best friends.

Mrs. Fell gave the same pointed look Ezra usually wore, “I won’t, but at least I will have had the appearance of having one of my children under control. Terribly afraid Liza is going to cause noise complaints. Besides, honestly, you’ll probably have a better chance of sleeping out here. If I was twenty years young, I’d have pitched a second tent and joined you.”

“We’ll be in to brush our teeth soon, mum,” Ezra assured with an amused grin.

“Alright, I’m going to attempt to sleep. Goodnight boys.”

“Night, mum,” The boys said in unison, then breaking out into laughter and giggles when she shook her head in exasperation.

“Should probably set up the bedrolls,” Anthony said when he suddenly remembered they just tossed them inside earlier.

“Hmm, probably right,” Ezra agreed, then promptly laid back down, much to Anthony’s amusement.

~A~  
  


Ezra had had to deal with bullies and disagreeable people the majority of his life. Fine, he was used to that.

What he was not used to was vehemently disliking another person. And he vehemently disliked one Fredrick Martin.

Fredrick, or “Freddie” as he liked to be called, was painfully handsome. Even if Ezra’s eye hadn’t tended to stray more to young men than young women, he rightly couldn’t argue that Fredrick was aesthetically pleasing. He was tall, lean with muscle, he had dirty blonde hair that was artfully styled and brown eyes that were warm. He smiled at everyone, and the bastard even had the ability to grow decent facial hair at sixteen and kept it neatly trimmed and always present. He was a musician, of course, and an excellent football player.

And Anthony liked him.

That was the part that bothered Ezra the most.

“It’s because he’s new,” Eliza said one day as they sat on the bleachers by the football field, watching as Fredrick was showing off a fancy sort of kick with the ball to Anthony and a few other people. “Anthony’s just distracted is all.”

“He’s going to abandon me any day now.” He lamented, turning to look up at his sister one seat above him, leaned back with her arms stretched out over the footrest behind her head. She would fit in with the likes of Anthony and Fredrick, casual and laid back, dressed within code but not to the letter. Not like him, not buttoned up and prim. “He’s going to realize he’s wasted two years of his life where he could have been far more popular than he was, with hipper friends, and I will be left in the dust.”

Eliza looked at him as if he were an idiot.

“What?” He asked.

“Nothing,” She sighed, shaking her head. “Just wonder how someone as clever as you can be so stupid.”

“I love you, too.” He retorted dryly.

“He’s not going to _abandon_ you. Freddie’s just the shiny new toy right now.” She shrugged.

He frowned. “Do you think that’s all I was?” He said, glancing back out, noticing Fredrick trying to teach Anthony, who seemed to become eighty percent limbs in the last few years, how to do the kick thing. “I was the shiny new toy?”

Eliza laughed. “God, Ez, no! No, not at all.”

He sighed, turning back to those on the field below, recalling with an ache that it was only last month that Anthony had called him pretty. Prettier than Eliza, who’d just grown more beautiful the older they got. She had a boyfriend a month, nothing too serious, just little dates here and there before she got bored and moved on. Eliza was a beauty, and Anthony had made it seem like she was common next to him. August had seemed like years ago now, and Ezra was beginning to feel increasingly foolish in thinking that maybe he and Anthony….

He didn’t know when he realized he’d developed a crush on Anthony.

He did recall the ultimate panic taking over sometime around Easter break. He and Anthony had been walking home from the shops in the rain, and Ezra had just purchased a book he’d been dying to get his hands on for months. He was also holding his white umbrella over their heads, so he didn’t have as firm a grip on the bag as he’d have liked. Someone had bumped them, the bag when flying, then was kicked without the person meaning to. It was about to go for a storm drain when Anthony moved quick as a snake and snatched up the bag at the last moment. The book inside was miraculously dry, and Ezra nearly swooned into a faint at the charming smile his hero gave him handing them back.

After that came the terrible fear he’d give himself away and Anthony would hate him. He thought to maybe stop with all the touches and the hugs, but that might come off as suspicious after giving them so freely for so long. He was petrified to admit that he was likely gay (and by likely, he meant very much so), terrified that Anthony would start to put some distance between them.

Then there was the chance that, maybe, Anthony liked men, too. Just not _him_.

That fear was becoming a reality on the football field, as Anthony blushed at something Fredrick said.

“You could just tell him you _like_ him,” Eliza said quietly, barely heard over everything else.

Ezra whipped his head up around and looked at her smiling slyly back at him.

“Don’t look at me like that,” She said, “I’ve always known.”

“How could you have always known when I certainly hadn’t.” He hissed back.

She arched a brow. “Could be your always wanting to play with my things instead of yours.”

“That’s just being sexist.”

“Or it could be that you’ve never once said anything about a girl, but wouldn’t stop talking about Mark when we were eleven.”

He glared at her but said nothing.

What could he say? Mark was quite fetching.

Anthony came up to sit beside him then, flopping back and sitting similarly to Eliza. “Wow.” He said with a dopey.

“Quite.” Ezra retorted.

“You know, Freddie’s invited us over to his place after practice,” Anthony said, turning to Ezra.

“Us, or you?” Ezra challenged.

Anthony hummed, “Umm, well, me, but you know….”

“It’s quite alright,” Ezra said bitterly. “I’m aware I’m not Fredrick’s people, no need to try and include me. Feel free to go if you wish.”

“Ez,” Anthony frowned.

“Don’t call me that, you know I loathe it. Ezra, it’s Ezra.”

“I call you Ez,” Eliza pipped up.

“You’re my older sister, it’s your job to annoy me.” Ezra countered with a mix of bitterness and affection. She stuck her tongue out before grabbing her backpack and getting up, hopping down the bleachers to catch up with Deidre and a few of the football players, thankfully (or perhaps, unfortunately) not going to Fredrick.

Fredrick who was looking up at Anthony with a shy smile.

“Oh, good lord,” Ezra mumbled to himself.

“What was that?” Anthony asked, turning sharply toward him.

Ezra looked him over, once, twice, a third, taking in all the slender, unusual beauty that was his best friend, and then looked at his lap. He stood, collecting his bag and putting his hand on Anthony’s shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “It was nothing.” He said. “You enjoy your time with Fredrick.”

“Wait, what?” Anthony sat up straight, leaning forward. “What are you… where are you going?”

Ezra turned a bit more toward him. “I have no interest in football, and you and I both know that Fredrick doesn’t want me around. I’m not even sure he knows who I am. But that shouldn’t hinder you.”

He’d never seen Anthony look so torn.

And Ezra had never wanted to cave in and suffer through something to make someone else happy like this before.

But he had his pride, and his heart was already aching, and he couldn’t bear to be there and watch himself be pushed aside in person.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” He said with one last squeeze of Anthony’s shoulder before turning and leaving, catching Eliza’s eye and waving.

It was the first time, with the exception of a cold now and then, that Ezra had walked home by himself in nearly two years.

**2002**

~C~

Anthony had a boyfriend. At least, he was pretty sure he did.

Freddie had asked him every Tuesday and Friday for a few weeks if Anthony would come to Football practice to watch him after school and Saturdays. And Anthony, a bit star-struck in a way, was more than happy to fulfill the request. So, he would sit on the bleachers, watching a bit in awe at the way Freddie ran up and down the field, kicking the ball, making everything look too effortless.

After, they would do something. Anything from hanging about to going to catch a movie. They would always sit close enough to one another that Anthony would sit in the intoxicating aroma of whatever he put on after his shower. He’d get to feel Freddie’s body heat nearly pressed against him, get to enjoy the odd brush of skin and the way Freddie would smile at him.

They hadn’t kissed or hugged, but Freddie had slung his arm around Anthony plenty of times with a thumb grazing his shoulders. He never seemed to take issue when Anthony would snatch his hand a moment now and again, and he almost seemed to miss it when it was withdrawn.

He could ask Freddie if that’s what was going on, but why ruin a good thing? In his head, Anthony could say they were dating and be happy.

Well, almost happy.

“Ezra, please?” He practically begged.

“No,” Ezra said firmly, walking with Anthony to the bleachers. He would do that, walk with him there only to essentially drop him off and leave.

“Please,” He begged again, trying his best to imitate puppy dog eyes.

It must have worked, at least a little because Ezra stopped with a heavy-hearted sigh. He looked to the field where only a few of the players were out, not all of them, a few kicking a ball around. He then turned back to Anthony. “You’re going to ignore me the entire time.”

“I don’t ignore you; I never ignore you.” Anthony retorted. “We’ve done it for years, sat in silence, and what not.”

“That was different,” Ezra said softly, almost sadly. “Then it was just you and me, the only distractions being homework or whatever you were doing.” He gave a tiny quirk of his lips. “I can’t pull your attention away from Fredrick.”

“Yes, you can.”

“No, I can’t.” Ezra retorted. He reached out and touched Anthony’s bicep, not the grip like he might have had before, but very softly like he didn’t mean to make full contact. Like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed. “I’ve tried, Anthony. I’ve asked you questions, tried to start a conversation,” He glanced at his feet, “I’ve even walked away entirely without you having noticed.”

He did notice, though. Maybe not right away, but he noticed. Hadn’t he?

“I promise we’ll talk while he practices. Promise. And, you know, you _can_ come with us after.”

“No,” Ezra said firmly. “No, I….” He seemed to relent for a moment, and Anthony’s heart picked up as he anticipated Ezra caving in. “It’s best I don’t.” His hand fell away, and suddenly that spot seemed far colder than the January air. “I will see you tomorrow.” And then Ezra left the field, head bowed as he walked.

Anthony watched him, heart aching, his initial impulse being to run after him. But he didn’t, he just made sure he wasn’t bothered as he passed his once-bullies, those goons seeming to have either moved on or just realized he wasn’t worth the trouble they might get into for going after him. Once Ezra had disappeared around the side of the building, Anthony continued to the bleachers.

He missed Ezra. As good as having a sorta-boyfriend was, as happy as he felt, he missed his best friend. It was like a part of him was missing, now.

Sitting on the benches, Anthony took his normal spot and reclined, spotting Freddie instantly and keeping his eyes on him while his mind wandered.

Christmas break had been mostly the same. He still spent a lot of time at the Fells’, but there were also days where Freddie came by, and the two would either stay at the Crowley residence or leave for somewhere else. And he’d been doing the whole practices thing since at least October, Tuesdays becoming dedicated to watching a football god in the making.

The more he thought on it, the more he realized that Ezra had been pulling away, giving him space. Space he didn’t want or need but was being given nonetheless. He didn’t even know what Ezra was _doing_ in the time they weren’t together; Anthony wasn’t even sure he’d ever asked. Eliza was seeing one of Freddie’s friends at the moment, was busy with a production in the drama club of some sort, wasn’t around as much either. Deidre and Ezra weren’t exactly close, just a sort of cursory friend.

Did he have anyone else?

“Hey, you.” Freddie broke Anthony’s reverie, coming up and sitting beside him. Anthony startled and looked around on the field, finding most of the players heading to the change rooms. “No practice today, it’s been canceled.” He explained. “Mr. Renner had something else needed doing. So, I’m all free.”

“Free?” Anthony asked, his heart aching. If he’d known a few minutes sooner, he could have asked Ezra to stick around and maybe….

But Ezra wouldn’t have.

 _“I can’t pull your attention away from Fredrick_.”

“Yeah, so… anything you want to do?” Freddie asked, quirking one brow and smirking.

“What do _you_ want to do?” Anthony asked in return, putting on a cool-ish pose as he leaned back on the bench behind him.

“I can think of a few things,” Freddie said with a careless tilt of his head, eyes scanning Anthony. He then glanced out on the now empty field. “Your parents don’t come home ‘til late, yeah?” He asked.

“No.” He said cautiously, intrigued, and nervous.

“Well, mine don’t know I don’t have practice. Could go by yours a while, then swing by mine.”

“Why not just go right to yours?”

Freddie gave a chuckle. “Because my parents wouldn’t let me have you in my room with the door closed.”

“No?” His eyes dropped to Freddie’s lips.

“No, you know why?”

“No.” Anthony shook his head, the scent of Freddie beginning to overwhelm him as the lips he’d just been looking at grew closer. He barely had a breath before he felt them, a whisper touch against his own, applying just the slightest amount of pressure.

Anthony’s mind went blissfully blank as he allowed instincts to carry him the rest of the way. Freddie’s facial hair tickled his upper lip, grazed against his chin, something heady and pleasant in a way he hadn’t expected.

Ezra would be soft, all soft, and-

 _Don_ _’t think about Ezra right now, you bloody idiot_.

Carefully, Anthony lifted a hand to Freddie’s cheek, grazing his thumb over the growth, feeling the prickle.

“So,” Freddie said as he pulled back. “Your place for a bit?”

“Yeah.” Anthony nodded dumbly. “Yeah, my place.”

~A~

Ezra felt sick.

He knew, he _knew_ it was coming, he could see it from miles out. But he still pretended it wasn’t happening, and he’d been doing a damn good job of it. Weeks and months of Anthony spending less time with him and more time with Fredrick and he still clung to the faintest possibilities that Eliza, Deidre, his suspicions were all wrong. They didn’t _act_ like a couple, not the way so many of their peers did. So, there was plausible deniability and all that.

At least until today.

The bruises on Anthony’s neck in the morning were suspicious. He said he was fine, got a bit red when Ezra pointed them out. Eliza had looked somewhere between murderous and impressed. Still, Ezra believed Anthony that they were nothing, carried on like his suspicions were silly, and hoped to forget everything.

Until they got to school, and it became impossible.

First, there were the whispers and stares, the smirks. The looks of regret from some girls, confusion from many, disgust from a few. Anthony ignored them valiantly, and Ezra had thought it was a mistake until he overheard two girls in math quietly discussing it: Freddie and Anthony snogging on the bleachers after practice was canceled the previous day.

And he had to hear about it all day long, the stories varied. One was that it was just a kiss. Another was they were bordering on public indecency before taking off for somewhere private. Some people claimed they’d seen them behind the bleachers doing things that would get them suspended or worse, but the majority said that Anthony had walked Freddie to the school, their hair all disheveled and uniforms wrinkled before he slunk back the way he came, and Freddie’s parents arrived a few minutes later.

So, plausible deniability was out the window, and it was official that Anthony Crowley had himself a boyfriend.

Ezra may have taken off pretty quickly after the last bell. He may have ignored Anthony’s inquiries as to where the fire was. He may not have given a single fuck. He’d briskly walked home, alone, gone into his room, shut the door, and laid on his bed.

His heart was shattered in his stomach, making him queasy in a way he couldn’t lessen. He hadn’t cried, but his eyes felt dry and sore like he had been. His chest was tight and uncomfortable, which had him loosen his tie and remove his sweater in an attempt to make breathing easier.

Nothing helped. He couldn’t say he was surprised.

There was a knock on his door, and for a brief panicked moment, he thought Anthony had come into the house. When his mother’s silvering hair came through the crack, preceding the rest of her, Ezra relaxed a fraction. He sat up, making space for her on the bed as she came in.

“You left rather quickly.” She said. “If I’d known you were going to be coming right home, I’d have given you a lift.”

“I forgot that you were coming back a bit earlier today,” Ezra replied, rubbing his hands on his knees.

His mum nodded, pursing her lips. After a moment, she said, “I heard Anthony has a paramour.”

“Yes.” Ezra swallowed.

“Fredrick’s a nice boy.” She said, bumping his shoulder a little.

“I suppose he must be to have won Anthony over.” Ezra agreed, much as he hated to. He frowned. “I just… well I suppose, I just thought….”

A heartbeat passed. Then another.

“You just thought that if Anthony was going to be interested in a boy, it would have been you,” Cynthia said very gently.

Ezra whipped his head up around and stared at her. He saw her, saw the warmth and love in her eyes, and still his heart pounded, and his breathing stopped, and panic welled inside him.

Cynthia put her arms around him. “Oh, honey, don’t look so terrified. I know, I’ve always known.” She gave him a squeeze when he managed to put an arm around her. “I’d just been waiting for you to tell me yourself. But it seems your broken heart did that for you.”

That brought the tears out, but these were of relief, and Ezra gave a shuddering sigh against his mum’s shoulder. After a few minutes, once he collected himself, he leaned back. “What… would I have disappointed dad?”

Cynthia snorted. “You clearly don’t remember Uncle Arthur.”

Ezra frowned. “Of course, I remember Uncle Arthur. He was dad’s mate from Oxford. Used to come by the house in London with his… Oh. Oh, yes, now I understand.”

Cynthia laughed, pulling her son back toward her, leaning her head on his.

They stayed quietly together, Ezra basking in the safety and comfort of his mother’s presence like he hadn’t since he was younger. He imagined what it might have been like to go through this with his father still living. Would it have been him offering comfort, or would he have felt awkward? He was an affectionate man, was never afraid to show his children he loved them, never afraid to appear less manly by providing hugs, a hand squeeze, and hair ruffle. Kisses on the cheek before the teen years hit and it became an unspoken thing that they would end for the most part.

“I don’t know how you feel about Anthony,” Cynthia said softly, pulling Ezra back to the present. “And you don’t have to tell me. Your age is a very confusing time for these things. Sometimes you think you’re in love, and it’s only fleeting. Or lust. Sometimes you think you’re in love, and you really are. Truly and deeply. Your father always said he’d only ever loved two women, me, and his first wife.”

“His childhood sweetheart.” Ezra nodded, remembering the stories.

“I always thought him exceptionally romantic for that,” Cynthia said as if she was confiding a great secret.

“I’m not sure how I feel,” Ezra lied, at least a little. He did have a crush, he knew that. Whether it ran deeper, he wasn’t sure, and now everything was jumbled up.

“That’s okay,” Cynthia assured. “But don’t let your friendship fall apart because of that. He may need you if this doesn’t work out for him, and even if it does, he’ll still need you.”

“I’m not so sure about that.” Ezra sighed.

“I am.” She promised, kissing his head. “Now, since you’re home, you can help me with dinner. And while we work on that, why don’t you talk to me about your latest English assignment.”

Ezra frowned. “Wouldn’t that be cheating? You're my teacher.”

She shrugged. “I usually hand yours and Eliza’s assignments off to Mitchell for review, keeps me honest.”

“Oh,” Ezra said. “Well, alright then.” He got up and followed his mum out of his bedroom and into the kitchen, happy for the distraction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't hate me for Freddie. It's a play on the name, but not meant to be Freddie Mercury.  
> We're back to 2019 next time.
> 
> Chapter title from "Crystal Clear" by Ali Milner (a Canadian artist who has been increasingly difficult to find on streaming)


	8. I'm Just a Stubborn Fool Who's Living In the Past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for homophobic/biphobic language. Not anything very terrible, but it's there.

**2019**

It had been a very long time since Fredrick Martin crossed Ezra’s mind, but with everything that happened in the last week, he couldn’t say it surprised him that he did. He was, after all, up early on a Saturday morning, watching people kick a football about.

The Ezra of nearly twenty years ago would call him something awful, he was sure, for doing the very thing he despised Anthony doing. Well, maybe not the _very_ thing. He wasn’t dating Gabriel, and never had in his opinion. He wasn’t near swooning watching him show off a little, playing with the closest thing Ezra would ever have to a son.

But, it was a sight. And, he had to admit to himself, if Anthony hadn’t come back in his life a week ago the sight of Adam smiling and laughing with Gabriel would have probably done more than warm his heart a little.

Gabriel had come over very early, having jogged to the Fell residence and encouraged the boys up and out. So in simple trousers and a sweater over a button-down hastily thrown on from the day before, Ezra sat and nursed a tea while they ran about.

There was sweat dampening parts of Gabriel’s t-shirt that was, admittedly, a bit attractive. He was wearing shorts that showed off his strong calves, and he wasn’t even near panting as he chased after the four-year-old. He would pretend to go for the ball and allow Adam to escape, once in a while getting it back while allowing Adam to steal it from him again. It was all quite charming to watch.

“Are you two going to eat your breakfast?” He called out as Gabriel pretended Adam’s shoulder check had knocked him off his feet.

“Brekkie!” Adam cried, abandoning Gabriel on the grass and dashing over to retrieve his pastry from the coffee cart in the park.

Ezra handed it to him, and Adam shuffled down a little ways to eat it, almost like he was giving the grown-ups space. In reality, Ezra suspected it was so he could discreetly rid himself of the parts of the pastry that lacked compote and cream cheese.

Gabriel huffed as he sat down next to Ezra.

“He’s getting good. Have you considered putting him into a little league, or whatever it's called here?”

Ezra glanced at him. “No, I can’t say I have. I have enough on my plate right now.”

“Speaking of,” Gabriel said as he grabbed the bag containing his own pastry, “I talked to Sandalphon.”

“Oh, you really didn’t have to.” Ezra rushed to say, but Gabriel grinned and held up his hand to stop him.

“I didn’t go out of my way to do it, we happened to run into each other at the pub last night. He’ll let you out of your lease at the end of this month, but that’s as early as he was willing.”

Ezra sighed, “Thank you,” he said, only half meaning it.

Gabriel studied him. “I overstepped, didn’t I?”

“A bit, yes.” Ezra retorted. “While I do appreciate the help, I hadn’t had a chance to talk to him myself yet. It’s been a week, not a bad one, just hectic. I got the official papers Tuesday, the ones that make me Adam’s guardian.” Then he frowned. “Well, I suppose they more or less make me his parent.”

“That’s good.” Gabriel smiled.

“It is. And then there was all the forms for him, the returning to work. The _papers_ that were just _awful_ but had to be graded. I ended up giving extra credit for those, a few of my students were very grateful for it.”

“Anthony Crowley coming around,” Gabriel added nonchalantly. “I didn’t know you two started talking again.”

He knew this was coming, he’d actually expected it to come up in a phone call, but when Gabriel confirmed their time together would be today, he kept it to time frames and that was all.

“I did mean it, the other day when I said it was nice you two were friends again. It just, well, the more I thought about it the more I realized I hadn’t heard you even mention him for about four years.”

Ezra was aware why Gabriel had chosen that specific number of years, knowing it was possibly a little more than that since he’d uttered Anthony’s name. He eyed Gabriel warily.

“It was a chance reunion.” He said. “And the boys were instant friends, and that bond has only grown stronger since Warlock’s begun nursery.” Ezra explained in a quiet voice, watching Adam not-so-discreetly push the “crust” of his pastry off the bench and on to the ground before running for the ball, oblivious to the grown-ups.

“His kid’s name is Warlock?” He said in a slightly mocking voice. “His…?”

“He’s not married, and there’s no partner,” Ezra answered the unspoken question. “I don’t know where he got the name from. At a guess, I would say he thought it sounded cool and would have the added bonus of perturbing his father.” And then, as if he needed to justify it more than he did, he added, “he calls him Lock.”

“So, he’s a single parent,” Gabriel commented.

“As am I.” Ezra reminded, and Gabriel flushed a little.

“You don’t have to be.” He shrugged.

Ezra sighed, “Gabriel-”

“I know, sunshine.” He said with a warm, caring smile. One Ezra dared not call loving but was awfully close. “But you know how I feel. And you know that Adam being a much bigger part of your life doesn’t change that. I want to be there if you’ll let me.”

“I’m not ready,” Ezra said, the same words he’d said before to the same man a few other times in his life. “I’m just… Gabriel, we work very well as friends, we always have.”

“I know,” He said, putting a hand on Ezra’s forearm and squeezing. “But… I’m not going to wait forever.”

If Ezra was less selfish, he’d have either called Gabriel out on the lie or encourage him not to wait. Instead, he smiled and said, “Have you met someone then?”

Gabriel looked up at him. “Uh, no. No, it’s just, well….”

“Ah,” Ezra said before taking a sip of his tea.

“So, have you needed any help?” Gabriel said, taking his hand back to be able to get his coffee. “I mean, I remember you said you had a conference thing coming up. Do you need someone to help with that?”

Ezra stared, blinking, and admittedly felt a bit guilty. He’d mentioned the meeting almost a month ago now, back during one of the last pub nights before everything changed. And it had been very casually mentioned, something in passing. Yet, Gabriel remembered, and he wasn’t the first person Ezra had thought to take Adam.

He could have picked him up from the nursery, could have taken him back to the flat, and watched him for Ezra.

And yet…

“Oh, well, umm, you see, uh… well, I have someone already lined up. For everything. Pick up, taking care of, all that. But, umm, thank you, really, for offering. And remembering. That’s very kind of you.”

“Who’s watching him?” Gabriel asked, frowning.

“Umm.” Ezra cleared his throat, watching Adam, “Anthony.”

It was very quiet, and Ezra was finding the tea wasn’t helping much.

“You don’t even know him.”

Ezra whipped his head around, seeing the sharp planes of Gabriel’s face. “That’s not true.”

“Ezra, it’s been a decade.” Gabriel snapped. “You have no idea what he’s like now.”

That was sort of true, he supposed. Ezra was essentially the same person he was back then, very little about him had changed. Anthony, well, there was at least one relationship that produced a child. That didn’t mean he himself was fundamentally changed with the exception of becoming a parent. A parent to a boy who seemed happy, healthy, and well adjusted.

“I do have an idea,” Ezra assured him. “Anthony and I have been catching up daily.”

No need to mention that this would be the daily coffee and treat before Anthony dropped him off at work. The conversations in the Bentley on the way to get the boys. The texts.

“I’m just worried about you and Adam,” Gabriel said softly.

“You don’t need to be,” Ezra assured.

They dropped the subject as they finished their drinks, remaining silent.

With an audible, final gulp, Gabriel set his cup aside, then patted Ezra’s knee. “Alright, sunshine. Let’s go, let’s show that boy of yours how it's done.”

Ezra groaned, setting his regrettably empty cup aside, and not bothering to mention that it was more than likely Adam who would be showing _him_ how it was done.

~C~

Crowley's parents had moved to London after he left for University. It was both one of the reasons he resided there after having Warlock, and one of the reasons he was keen to leave once The Garden had been established in Tadfield. James Crowley had yet to retire from finance, and Erica Crowley had still practiced at a teaching hospital, and since they no longer had the pretense of raising their child outside of the city, they bit the bullet and bought a townhouse.

Which, Crowley thought, was utterly ridiculous and probably something they should have done from the get-go. But no, it reeked of superiority to have a proper house in a smaller urban area just south of the city where their only child could have a proper garden and smaller class sizes.

He didn’t miss his childhood home and was frankly glad that Warlock had no knowledge of it. To him, Gramps and Nana had always had this place, with the room just for him between their office and home gym. Not that Crowley ever let him sleepover, but they had it made up all the same, and it was only in that room that he was allowed to play with his toys.

So, with Warlock down the hall, Crowley was sitting at the kitchen table by himself, watching his mother attempt to cook something before she would inevitably call it a wash and order takeaway. His father was sitting across from him, paper in hand, pretending to both ignore him and be involved in the conversation.

“Warlock was telling me he has a new friend,” Erica said, looking over her shoulder at Crowley. “Someone he met at the park?”

“Yeah,” Crowley replied, watching James while speaking to her. “Do you remember Ezra Fell?”

The paper became a bit more wrinkled in James’ hands at the mention of the name, and Crowley’s lip twitched upward.

“Oh, your friend from school,” Erica said. “Yes, I remember him.”

“That’s his boy.” He replied, still watching James. He looked up at his son, then, but Crowley turned back to Erica. “We ran into them at the park. Our boys got on real well. Going to go to school together, too. See each other every day.”

“Oh, that’s nice,” Erica said, meaning it.

“He married?” James asked gruffly.

“No, single dad like me,” Crowley replied, pretending like he wasn’t watching James.

“Huh,” James grunted. “That’s surprising. Didn’t think he had it in him.”

He debated letting James think a bit better of Ezra but knew Warlock would blow the whole thing open anyway. “Well, he’s not Adam’s father. Eliza, you remember Eliza? She was Adam’s mother.”

“Was?” Erica asked.

“She passed a few weeks ago.”

“And they trusted that boy with a fucking poofter?” James scoffed.

“Fuck off, Dad,” Crowley said casually.

“You watch your tongue, boy!”

“Or what?” Crowley rolled his head toward James and glared. “Can’t take my money away, can ya? Gonna throw me out? Because I’m more than willing to go anytime.”

“James!” Erica hissed in warning, her eyes cold and hard.

James sighed, getting up from his chair. “I’ll be in my office.” He growled, leaving the kitchen without a word or glance at anyone.

This, sadly, was actually very normal. When Anthony first left home, he tended not to poke the bear, as it were. His trust fund was in the hands of his father, and the trickles that came out were only enough to sustain a bare minimum of living. Not even comfortable living, and he was infinitely thankful for having the Fells around to help him stretch it before he royally screwed that one up. But once Warlock was born, once he no longer had something hanging over his head to force him to behave, he didn’t hold back. The bear wasn't just poked, it was outright taunted. Crowley had outright flaunted everything about him that his father hated.

James rarely lasted long when it came to visits with his son.

Alone without Warlock underfoot, Crowley asked Erica, “How are you still with that asshole?”

“Anthony,” She said with exasperation.

“No, mum, I’m serious. Why haven’t you left him yet?”

“It’s not simple as all that.”

“How?” Anthony asked. “How is it not? He doesn’t have a hold over me in any way anymore, and he hasn’t for almost five years. You don’t have to be in my corner to protect me, so why stay?”

She sighed, setting the knife she’d been chopping with down and coming over to sit by Anthony.

“We want to set a good example for Warlock.” She said, folding her hands on the table.

“How the fuck is Dad calling my best friend a poofter a good example? How the fuck is his still sneering in disgust, greeting me with ‘cut your fucking hair ya Nancy’ a good example? He knows I like men, knows I _prefer_ them, so chances are pretty good I’m gonna end up with one, and yet.”

“Your dad…” She started, that same tone she’d had for years when making excuses for James. “He just… he just hopes you’ll maybe find a mum for Warlock.”

“He doesn’t need a mum.” Crowley countered. “He doesn’t need anyone but me.”

“Of course he doesn’t. But you know your dad has always believed in the traditional household model.” She huffed, “He’s your father, and he loves you.”

“Come on, mum, say it like you mean it,” Crowley said, referring to her near-robotic voice. Erica, for her part, didn’t try to lie.

She got back up, looked at the chopped vegetables on the board, and huffed. “Does Warlock still like Indian?”

“Yes, Lock still likes Indian,” Crowley smirked, chuckling as Erica pushed the board aside. “If you want him to eat a meal ‘Nana’ made bad enough, why don’t you just ask Silvia to set something up that you can pop in the oven?”

“I can’t do that,” Erica crossed her arms. “I tried, once. But I hate admitting I can’t do something.”

“Maybe you can take lessons when you retire.”

“That won’t be for a while.” She said grumbled. “How’s the Garden?”

“Both are doing good. Business is booming, might need to hire a few more people. Or see if some of my part-timers want more hours. I’m going to have to put in a few more myself, soon.”

“Would Ezra being willing to help with Warlock?” She asked with a knowing tone, smirking, brow lifted in exactly the same way Crowley does it.

He smirked. “How long have you been waiting to bring him up again?”

“Since your father left the room. So, tell me. The boys were instant friends, were you two once again?”

Crowley pursed his lips. “Yes.”

“Oh,” She cooed, pressing her hands against her lips, barely hiding a smile that was making its way to her eyes regardless. “Oh, that’s so sweet. Can you imagine, childhood sweethearts?”

“We weren’t sweethearts,” Crowley grumbled, then pointed at her. “It may not even get to that point now. But, see? This reaction? This is why I can’t understand why you stick with him. You’d be genuinely happy for me if I-”

“Leaving would be more hassle than it’s worth.” She said honestly, hands falling to her lap. “There’d be a fight: over money, over the houses. And then there’s Warlock to consider. None of your friends are married, he has no idea what a long term relationship looks like.”

“Well, this isn’t exactly the best example, is it?” Crowley dropped his voice, leaning in. “God knows what dad gets up to, but you and that-”

She smacked his hand gently. “Don’t.”

“But that’s my point, mum, along with all the other ones. You don’t love each other, he’s got none for myself, if he does for Warlock I’d be surprised since he has never taken much interest in him aside from ensuring he _is_ mine. I mean, wouldn’t you be happier?”

Erica sighed. “I don’t know.” She confessed. “I might be, but I don’t know.”

“You should think about it,” Crowley told her, reaching out and squeezing her arm. “And you should probably order soon because Lock’s going to want to eat soon.”

She laughed, one of the few times Crowley thought his beautiful mum was actually truly lovely and went to the counter to get her phone and place the order.

~*~

“Dinner with your parents?” Ezra said the next day as he and Crowley walked well behind the boys as they headed for the park.

Crowley had texted him the night before to ensure they would be good for an outing (which devolved into an utter nonsense conversation before he went to bed) and made sure they would be ready for the Crowleys to drop by in the morning. Ezra and Adam were waiting for them, and they decided to walk to the park together. Once they were on the strip of road in which there were no more crossings or the chance for incoming traffic to cross their path, they let the boys wander away a little to have some semblance of privacy.

“Yeah, it was about as pleasant as you can imagine,” Crowley said, tilting his head back and letting the sun warm his face a bit. “How was Gabriel?” He asked, the name a bitter taste in his mouth.

“He’s well. Actually, he did me a tremendous favor, even though I asked him not to.” Ezra replied as the boys stopped at the entrance to the park.

“Which was?”

“He spoke to my landlord. Got me out of my lease a month early. It was nice of him, of course, but I had really wanted to handle it on my own.”

They entered the park, and the boys took off toward the coffee cart where they knew the men would inevitably go. They bounced around, waiting for the adults, and as soon as they were there, the boys took off for the playground.

“Oi, stay where we can see you!” Crowley shouted as Ezra placed their orders. He watched the boys while Ezra waited for the drinks, and once they had them, they headed for the tables where they had reunited just over a week ago.

That was the weirdest part, the fact that it didn’t feel like it had only been a week. It barely felt like there was a massive span of time in which they weren’t speaking. They moved to a table, sat facing the boys, taking first sips of drinks.

“So, you’re paying rent on two places, or…?” Crowley asked, turning to Ezra.

“No, Marjorie, she was Eliza’s landlord, and mine when we first moved here. Well, she’s waving the rent for a time.”

“That’s kind of her.” Crowley frowned. “Is she expecting you to make it up later?”

“No, no, nothing like that. She isn’t concerned overmuch about the money. She had inherited the building, the bookshop provides well, I’m sure, so our small bit of rent isn’t noticed overmuch. And she has a couple, umm, unconventional businesses on the side.”

“Such as?”

“Well,” Ezra blushed, and that only perked Crowley’s interest more. “Well, see… she does fortune-telling, and psychic readings as Madam Tracy, every Thursday and when requested. But she, uh, also happens to be _Madam_ Tracy on Mondays, Tuesdays, and Fridays.”

Crowley let that sit for a minute.

“It was Liza that found her, wasn’t it?”

“Oh, yes. It very much was.” Ezra nodded vigorously. “I have the utmost respect for Marjorie, she’s a lovely woman and I simply adore her. But, well, I admit when looking for a place to raise a child, I don’t think I would have gone looking at the one next door to the, umm, well.”

“I dunno,” Crowley shrugged. “Very nearly bought a flat in Soho.”

“You didn’t?” Ezra countered.

“I did. Very close thing. But mum found one in Mayfair, and I happened to like it, so I went for that.”

It was quiet for a moment before Ezra asked, “How long did you live in London for?” It was a sad sort of tone, wistful, one that made Crowley’s heart ache a little.

“We lived there for almost five years.” He replied. “Before that, I was… living on an estate, doing the gardening work.”

“Is that what you did? After you left?” Ezra asked, and Crowley didn’t need him to clarify what he meant by that.

“Not right away.” He said, choosing to look at the boys while he spoke. “I did what dad asked, got the masters in business. Still had a year to go before I got my financial freedom, but I didn’t want to do what he did. So, I took some classes on horticulture. Which came in handy when he still wouldn’t release it.”

“Why did he hold off?” Ezra asked.

“I was dating a bloke at the time,” Crowley replied, looking to Ezra. “My own fault should’ve known it was coming. If I’d been smart, I would’ve asked the bloke to wait a bit, or went for a girl in my class, can’t remember what her name was now.”

Crowley took a sip of his coffee, and nearly missed the, “we really have missed out on so much.” He turned to Ezra, furrowing his brow, and Ezra shrugged. “Gabriel pointed out that we haven’t known each other in ten years. That we’re different people now, and….”

“And?” Crowley half mocked. “What does Gabe have to say?”

“Well,” Ezra tapped his fingers together around the cup. “I want to say, first, that I have no intention or desire to change our plans for this week. I still appreciate you being willing to watch Adam, and I still want us all to stay over. But he expressed concerns over my trusting you with Adam for the night.”

Crowley’s lip curled, and he hid it behind his coffee cup. “Probably just pissed he didn’t get to watch Adam himself.” He mumbled.

“Oh, I have no doubt that that’s the case, dear,” Ezra said, waving him off. “But he does bring up a valid point. We _don’t_ know each other, not like we used to. Regardless of how it feels.” He said with a grin, something shy and beautiful that had Crowley’s heart fluttering.

“It does feel like nothing’s changed, doesn’t it?” He said, earning a brighter smile, this time one directed at him.

“Oh, it very much does,” Ezra said, glancing down at his cup but not turning away. “But we’d be fools if we tried to pretend otherwise.”

“So, what do you propose we do?” Anthony asked. “When’s your conference again? Thursday, right?”

“Yes.”

“So, pack a bag for two nights, come back to mine on Friday, too, and we’ll get gloriously drunk while the boys are asleep and catch up that way.” He smirked, wondering if Ezra would bite.

“What are we? Twenty-something? Heavens, no, I would not enjoy the hangover in the morning. A bottle of wine or two between us would do nicely, I think.” He frowned. “Unless, of course, Anathema and Newton want to join us for the earlier portion of the evening.”

“And have them making eyes at each other?” Crowley asked. “Risk them having just the wrong amount of liquor and then hear the whining and the pining come Monday?” Ezra hummed in understanding, his brow furrowing. “But that’s what you all did, isn’t it? Go out for drinks on a Friday?”

Ezra hummed again, this time in agreement. “How is it that you never joined us?” Ezra asked. “I was always extended an invitation by Newton to your card nights, but never really felt inclined to go.”

“Well, you were never one for card games.” Crowley shrugged it off. “Honestly, I used to do Friday nights in London, sort’ve my catch-up evening. Did it the other night, too, though it was the first time Anathema watched him. She volunteered.”

“Yes, she mentioned she did that last night,” Ezra said thoughtfully. “I asked if she might watch Adam for me Saturday so I can pack up my flat.”

“I take it you confirmed Gabe’s meddling?”

“Yes. I’m not sure how, and my landlord was awfully polite about it.” He took a sip of his drink.

“Would you like a hand?” Crowley offered. “If Anathema is already watching Adam, could throw in Warlock and actually make it easier on her. They could stay at my place.”

Ezra smirked. “You’re acting as if I’ve officially taken up your invitation for a two-night stay.”

“Well, why wouldn’t you?” Crowley countered, grinning with teeth.

Ezra giggled. “Oh, it could be we are in our thirties with responsibilities, and I have this feeling in my gut we will attempt to act at least ten years younger.”

“That’s not a no.”

“No, it’s not a no,” Ezra smirked. “It’s a maybe. We’ll see how Thursday night goes, first. You may not want us around.”

“I’m the one that snores if I recall.”

“Oh, hush, you never snored.”

“Hi, Mr. Fell. Bye, Mr. Fell.” A little girl cried as she ran by, screaming both Adam and Warlock’s names, ceasing the conversation between the men and causing the boys to pause their play. A moment later there was an uproar and copious amounts of jumping about.

A moment later, a woman came around and sat at the other table.

“Hi, Ezra, how are you?” She asked as she sat down.

“I’m well, Amma. Have you met Warlock’s father, Anthony?”

Crowley, who was sitting farthest away from her, got up to go shake her hand. “AJ Crowley. Can call me either AJ or Crowley.”

“A pleasure.” She returned the handshake. “Pepper has been quite taken by Warlock, she’s spoken of nothing but him joining them this week.”

“Glad to hear he’s fitting in,” Crowley said as he put his hands in his pockets, then sauntered back to where he was sitting with Ezra.

Amma gave them a knowing smile, and took out a book, giving a wave to Ezra as she gave them as much space as the park allowed.

“AJ?” Ezra repeated with a frown.

“You don’t like it?”

“No, I didn’t say that. I’ll get used to it.” He rushed to say. “I heard Newt refer to you as such, I just, well, I thought it was a quirk.”

“It pissed Dad off when I started introducing myself as Crowley, and that did stick. But Anthony, well…” He rolled his cup between his hands. “I just stopped using it. AJ sounded more my speed. And I don’t want you to get used to it. I want you to call me Anthony. I like it when you call me Anthony. Sounds right, coming from you.”

“Well, as long as that’s what you want,” Ezra said, and Crowley smiled at him even if he wasn’t looking. Ezra was watching the children, the sun shining through his curls, making them glow.

_“You’re like a bloody angel.”_

_“Oh, stop.”_

_“You are. Always good to me, always nice. Got the whole look goin’, too. Angel. Pretty angel. Gonna call you that from now on.”_

_“That has implications.”_

_“Stop using big words, angel. ‘M high.”_

Crowley smiled at the memory, then took a drink of his coffee in hopes of washing away the dopey.

But then he started thinking about all the exciting things about to happen, namely the potential three days of Ezra. He’d have to make sure he wasn’t going to be needed at the shops, be absolutely certain he was all caught up by leaving Wednesday. He was expecting a shipment on the 11th, but that was Tuesday, plenty of time to….

And then a thought smacked him over the head.

“It’s your birthday Friday!” Anthony exclaimed, startling Ezra enough a splash of tea erupted from the mouth of his takeaway cup.

“Yes,” Ezra said, only a hint of annoyance in his voice. “I’m genuinely surprised you remember.”

“I never forgot.” Anthony countered immediately, and then instantly wished he hadn’t. He looked at the cup in his hands, at his boy and his friends. “Since… since the… never was able to look at blue frosted cupcakes again, not in June.”

“Cookies in July were never more unappealing,” Ezra confessed quietly. “And I haven’t been able to stomach one since, no matter the time of year.”

“Maybe we should restart the tradition?” Crowley said as nonchalantly as possible. “Or maybe we can start a new one. With the four of us?”

Ezra looked over at him, met his eye with something raw inside his own. Like pain and hope all mixed together. He glanced away, eyes darting about as if searching for something Crowley couldn’t see. Then he put his hand over Anthony’s where it rested on the table, half holding it.

“I would like that,” Ezra said quietly. “And maybe… maybe I _would_ like to spend my birthday in your company. And we can have Anathema over, as well as Newton like you suggested.” He then looked to the boys. “It will be… well, it will be the first of many to come, but the first is always the hardest. And if I lost Eliza, I’m quite glad I’ve regained you.”

Crowley narrowed his eyes at him. “Were you just saying maybe before because you thought I didn’t remember?”

Ezra smirked. “Well, it would have been terribly awkward if I had brought it up myself.” He peered at Anthony through the corner of his eye, taking a sip of his tea in a way that could only be described as smug.

 _I love you_ , Anthony thought, the words slipping through his mind like something dislodging and flowing free. It consumed him, flooding his blood and warming his bones. He’s never stopped, never once. Through all the men and women throughout his dating life, the truth was that no one ever overrode Ezra in his heart. Many had tried, no one succeeded. Not even bloody time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from "Used to Be" by Matt Nathanson


	9. Falling In Love Just Broke My Heart

**2002**

“Please, Ezra?” Anthony asked him the second English class was dismissed.

“Why?” He countered, packing his bags and checking to see what day it was. Wednesday, so this was going to be one of those awkward days where he wasn’t sure he was going to be able to get away.

“Why?” Anthony repeated. “Umm, because you’re my best friend?”

“Am I?” He turned to the ginger, meeting his gaze dead-on, something very few could manage.

Any charm or grin that had been there before was gone, and Anthony’s despondency almost made Ezra instantly give him what he wanted.

“Course you are.” Anthony retorted.

“We’ve seen precious little of each other these last few months for that to be true,” Ezra noted as he stood up, shouldering his bag and heading off to lunch.

It was, perhaps, a bit cruel, but the truth often was. Since January, when Anthony and Fredrick became an official couple, Anthony was around less and less. It went slowly from his being absent on Tuesdays to only really having Tuesdays for Ezra. Which meant he had a lot of time by himself to think about things. Things, for instance, like how he felt about Anthony.

He decided he didn’t have a crush on him after all. It was easier that way, really. Far less messy, less complicated, less likely to have him mope and pine. Eliza was a bit disheartened by his lack of wanting to pine, but he really didn’t want to dwell. Anthony had little interest in him beyond friendship, and even that was a bit of a stretch these days. So, no crushes, no infatuations, no anything but fondness between friends.

And it had been easy with him only seeing Anthony during school hours and on Tuesdays, should he decide to grace himself with his presence.

“Ezra, don’t be like that,” Anthony said to him, easily catching up and keeping pace. “You’re still my best friend, really. I know I’ve been shit, I’ll try harder, promise.”

“You’re just saying that because you want my help.”

“No,” Anthony said, though he sounded unsure. When Ezra glanced at him, he stood straighter. Anthony grabbed Ezra's shoulder, stopping them in the hallway, shuffling off to the side a moment. “Have I really been that bad?”

Ezra’s gaze darted from Anthony to the space around him, watching the crowds thin out. “I didn’t see you at all during the February break.” He began. “And, well, we speak to each other so little now it’s like we know nothing about one another anymore.”

“What? No, no, I know plenty about you. And me, well, nothing terribly important changed about me.” Anthony said, rubbing the back of his neck before stuffing his hands in his pockets.

“I have a job,” Ezra said, watching Anthony’s eyes grow wide.

“You what?”

“A job,” Ezra repeated.

Anthony blinked, his mouth moving like a fish. “Where?”

“The library,” Ezra shrugged. “You were gone most of the Christmas break, and then I hardly saw you, and, well…. When dad was still alive, going right home wasn’t terrible. I could talk to him if I was lonely. But, well, unless mum has decided to do her grading at home, no one shows up for a few hours. So, I started going to the library a bit more, and one of the heads there noticed, told me they had a part-time position coming up, so I applied. And got it.”

“Well, that’s….” Anthony broke out into a grin. “That’s good, I’m glad to hear!” And then his eyes went wide, a spark of an idea within. “We could work on it while you’re at work!”

“Anthony,” Ezra started to protest.

“No, but really, how often are you busy in the evenings, huh?”

“More than you might think.” He countered.

“Still,” Anthony said, taking Ezra’s shoulders in hand. “Please.”

He sighed. “What about Fredrick?” He asked quietly. “Why can’t you work on this with him?”

Anthony looked around, blushing fiercely. “Dad… won’t let him over. Probably”

“Oh?” Ezra frowned.

“He… may have… heard.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“And… is everything… are you…?”

“He… Mum told him that, no matter what, he can’t throw me out.” Anthony assured. “So, there’s that. Not really allowed to close my door with anyone in the house ever again.”

“You two… haven’t…,” Ezra asked, and Anthony blushed deeper. “Oh.”

Ezra’s heart attempted to shatter in the pit of his stomach and make him lose his appetite, but he refused to allow it. He forced himself to continue breathing as normal. He would _not_ allow _that_ little tidbit of information to change _anything_.

“Can we not… talk about that?” Anthony asked, rubbing at the back of his neck.

“Gladly.” Ezra turned away, ready to make his way down the hall.

Anthony caught his arm. “Ezra.”

“I’ll work on the project with you.” He relented. “If for no other reason than I don’t want to be paired with someone else.”

“You’re the best.” Anthony beamed, giving his arm a squeeze before taking off down the hall.

Ezra slumped against the lockers and frowned. “Suppose I must be.”

~*~

He’d never gone to the Crowley house on a weekend. To Ezra’s knowledge, he’d never seen a car in the drive, either. So, as he punched in Anthony’s code on the gate and spotted the shiny, very new vehicles in the drive, it felt a bit surreal. It wasn’t until he was on the front step that it even occurred to him that he hadn’t met with Anthony’s parents in the years he’d known him.

He rang the bell, wringing his hands nervously, hoping to see the housekeeper or someone else from the staff.

The door was opened by a tall, broad-shouldered man who scowled. He didn’t really see Anthony in him, the man’s face was hard, his eyes cold.

“Are you this Freddie?” He asked in a disgusted tone that had Ezra startled.

“No,” He replied. “I’m most certainly not Fredrick.” He then presented his hand. “Ezra Fell.”

Mr. Crowley stared at the hand a long time before he stepped aside without taking it.

“He’s in his room. Door stays open. People will be going by.”

“Of course, sir.” He said with a nod, dropping his hand to his side and trying not to let the rudeness burn too badly. He barely made it into the entryway when a smiling, bubbly blonde came up to him.

“Hi! I’m Erica Crowley, Anthony’s mom.” She said, sticking out her hand.

Ezra blinked at it, her, then briefly at the man still scowling in the entryway. The man who, he realized, did not have a lick of red in his hair. He turned back to Anthony’s mother with a smile. “Ezra Fell. A pleasure to meet you, Dr. Crowley.”

“Oh,” Her smile fell for a moment before it returned in a more subdued way. “When Anthony said a boy was dropping by, I thought he meant someone else. Yes, Ezra, I have heard of you. It’s nice to meet you.” She shook Ezra’s hand and glanced at her husband. “Well, you might as well head on up, Anthony’s expecting you. Do you know the way, or?”

“Uh, yes.” He said, hoping he wasn’t about to get his friend in trouble by confessing that. He also didn’t stick around for the questions, deciding to head right on up to Anthony’s room.

He found him lounging on his bed, glancing up and appearing relieved to see him.

“You arrived intact?” He asked as Ezra very nearly closed the door out of habit.

“I take it that had my name been Fredrick I wouldn’t have survived?” He countered before moving to sit on Anthony’s sofa.

“Yeah, probably.” Anthony closed his comic book and tossed it aside, getting up and moving to sit lotus style at Ezra’s feet. “Still, you never know. Anyway, what are we doing for this project?”

“I thought that I would let you decide,” Ezra said as he reached into his bag and pulled out the project sheet. “We have a few options. There’s even a few we don’t technically need to be together to work on.”

Ezra looked over the list, not realizing how quiet it was until Anthony timidly asked, “do you really not want to work on me with this?”

“I would have figured you’d prefer to not have me-”

“Don’t say that.” Anthony cut in, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, Ezra. Really, truly sorry. I… I guess I just hadn’t realized.”

His honesty was raw, obvious, and heartbreaking. Not that he would allow his heart to break, because he didn’t hold Anthony in higher esteem than as a friend.

He sighed. “Eliza gets like this when she has a boyfriend.” And then with a wry grin, added, “granted, they don’t seem to last as long.”

Anthony gave a nervous laugh. “Yeah, a bit surprised myself, sometimes.”

“And yet, you’ve… with…”

“Well, it’s… it’s not like that.” He nervously scratched at his neck. “But, yeah, let’s, uh, let’s focus on the project.”

Ezra arched a brow, “If you insist. So, what would you like to do?” He handed Anthony the list.

He watched as Anthony looked it over, waiting. “We could do the letters?” He offered. “Between Romeo and Juliet?”

Ezra smirked, “Put them on a paper, make it look old. Maybe have one say ‘undeliverable’?” He suggested.

“Suppose. Ugh, I hate the gloomy ones. It’s got to end in death, bloody hate that.”

“Well, we are allowed to alter things so long as we get the idea across, but I think we'd lose points if we change that bit," Ezra said, trying not to find Anthony's grumble of dissatisfaction amusing and failing. To get them back on track, he said, "What if we do the letters as if there was no balcony scene?”

“Could do. He sees her at the ball, but instead of approaching her balcony-”

“He writes her a letter.” Ezra smiled. “I think that will work nicely. Shall we get to it then?”

They began to hash it out, at least a rough idea of how the version of events went for their scenario.

“Can I ask why you didn’t want to do this with Fredrick? And don’t give me that you had rather we work together. There was a project a couple months back, Science, I believe, and you two paired up.”

Anthony grinned. “He’s, umm… not terribly bright.” He said, the end of his pen rubbing at the side of his face. “I ended up doing most of the project. Which, you know, at least had us passing. But I intend to go into further education next year, so I want decent grades. Freddie… doesn’t.”

“Oh,” Ezra said, refusing to feel let down despite how much every part of him wanted to. “So, it wasn’t because….”

“I also missed you.” Anthony shrugged. “And I like working with you. Prefer it, actually. Have since that thing couple years back, what was that project? The, umm, the one with the-”

“Roman history.”

“Roman history, that’s the one!” Anthony crowed. When Ezra merely gave a half-smile, he said. “I’ll make more time for you, outside of this. I promise.”

Ezra darted a glance at him. “You don’t have to.”

“I want to.” Anthony said firmly, holding Ezra’s gaze.

Slowly, Ezra nodded, and the subject was dropped.

“So tell me about the library.”

“It’s quiet, and I get to read or do my homework when it’s not terribly busy. Which, unsurprisingly, it can be. Mind, the other librarians tend to use my appearance as a 'big, strong lad' as a reason to leave me all the reshelving, especially the heavy books. I don't mind, it does keep me occupied.” Ezra shrugged, looking down at the project outline in his notebook. “Really, it’s quite lovely. Although,” He lifted his head as a thought occurred to him. “There’s a boy.”

That had Anthony’s attention much more abruptly and far more attentively than Ezra expected. “Really?”

“Well, I suppose it’s more that there’s a young man. He’s older than us, for certain, and… well, he stares.”

“He stares?”

“Quite a lot, actually. I can feel him watching me when I shelve books. Sometimes he looks away, but once in a while, he’ll smile and give a little wave.”

Anthony’s eyes fell back on his paper as he seemed to think on it. “Do… do you… like him?”

“I don’t even know him.” Ezra retorted with a scoff.

“Yeah, but do you find him… attractive?”

Ezra frowned. “I don’t know, maybe?”

“Would you go out with him if he were to ask?” Anthony asked, sounding uncertain.

“No,” Ezra said immediately. “I don’t want to get into… all that. Not now. Seeing Eliza, and now you… I think it’s too much.”

Anthony hummed, brow furrowing. “You’re probably right.”

“How’s it going in here?” Dr Crowley asked in a bright, chipper voice, startling both boys.

“Mum, gonna give us a heart attack. We’re fine.”

“Good, good.” She said as she put her hands in her denim pockets, nodding. “But, just a word to the wise, your father is likely going to send me back up here in about a half-hour to an hour, and every marker until Ezra leaves.” She glanced at the blonde. “No offense, sweetheart.”

“None taken, Dr. Crowley,” He assured.

“Oh, please, call me Erica. Anyway, I’ll leave you to it.” She said as she turned and left, her feet sounding on the stairs as she descended.

“This is going to be a regular occurrence around here from now on, isn’t it?” Ezra asked.

Anthony scoffed, “Not them personally, but yeah. Just makes your place that much better."

~C~

There was a boy. A “young man” as Ezra had called him, and he was very much staring. He was at a table, on his own, head bent over books, watching.

This was the third time Anthony had gone to the library during one of Ezra’s shifts, and the third time he’d seen the same, dark brown, curly-haired bloke. Ezra had told his boss that Anthony was there as they were working on a group project, and he had promised he wouldn’t affect his work (very true). So, Anthony had a very valid excuse to be in whatever section Ezra was assigned to. The first day, Anthony didn’t notice the bloke until he caught him watching Ezra so much. The second and third times he noticed the bloke started out in the main room, near the desk, until Ezra ventured to wherever he was assigned.

“Pssst,” Anthony said as quietly as he could.

Ezra sighed, carrying the books in his hands over to the table where Anthony was sitting.

“Yes?” He asked, mindful of Anthony's own texts sprawled across the whole flat surface before him.

“You have a stalker.”

Ezra grinned. “I believe I have mentioned this.”

“Yeah, but he follows you around.”

“Technically you do, too.” Ezra countered before collecting the books and heading back to the shelves behind Anthony.

He, for the most part, attempted to return his focus to his science text. But the bloke, every time he peeked out the corner of his eye at Ezra, Anthony somehow _knew_. So, he watched the bloke, watched as the bloke began to bounce his knee, his longer curls sort of bouncing in front of his face. They did a good job partly hiding his staring, and he probably gazed at Ezra a lot more than the blonde knew about.

And then, abruptly, the bloke stood.

This close to him, Anthony couldn’t help but think he was tall. Anthony himself was considered tall-ish, Freddie a hair bigger than him, but this bloke was definitely bigger than them both. He walked with purpose toward Ezra, and Anthony went stone still, straining to listen, thankful as anything that the rules of the library dictate there be absolute quiet.

“Um, hi.” The bloke said, his voice surprisingly deep.

“Oh, hello. How can I help you?” Ezra returned, polite as ever.

Anthony desperately wanted to look, but looking meant turning around, and that would be too obvious.

“Umm, well. This is going to sound forward, but I was wondering if that ginger bloke was your boyfriend.”

“Oh, no,” Ezra said, and Anthony clenched his fist around his pen at how awful that sat with him. What had he expected? For Ezra to lie? “No, he’s just my friend,” Ezra continued.

“Oh, good.”

“Good?”

“Yes. You see, I was…. Well, this might be presumptuous, but I was wondering if you would like to go out with me sometime.”

Anthony stopped breathing. At least, as much as one truly could stop breathing in moments like these. He shifted his eyes, but it wasn’t like he was going to see out of the back of his head. And Ezra was taking too long to answer.

“I don’t even know you.” Ezra eventually replied.

The bloke chuckled. “That’s sort of the point of the date.”

“Ah, yes. See… you appear much older than me. I’m only fifteen, you see. Won’t be sixteen for a couple months yet, and, well….”

“Okay, yeah, I think I overestimated your age.” The bloke said kindly, and Anthony let all the air leave his lungs in a woosh before breathing normally. “But, hey! Maybe we can still get to know each other. I’m Oscar, by the way.”

“Ezra.”

“Yes, I know. It’s on your lanyard.”

Anthony rolled his eyes at the cheeky, flirty way that came out, and how Ezra actually giggled.

“Maybe sometime after your shift, we could talk? Get to know each other? And maybe in those few months, you’ll change your mind about the date?”

“I… suppose. Yes. I think I could agree to that. If nothing else, it can never hurt to have another friend.”

But it did hurt. It hurt Anthony. Hurt to have the reminder that he’d essentially tossed him aside for a bloke.

“Hey!” Freddie said, far too loud for the quiet, but not enough for a reprimand. It's like Anthony had somehow summoned him with his lamenting, the boy he was thinking of suddenly in the chair across from him, bag on his lap, pulling books out. 

Anthony gaped at Freddie, unable to focus on the ongoing conversation between Oscar and Ezra. 

“So, mum had to run to the shops, and since she was going to be an hour or so, I thought I would ask if I could study at the library for a bit. Which, clearly she said yes. I was really hoping I hadn’t missed you.”

“Right,” Anthony said, wishing he knew why Ezra was giggling again.

“So, how’s it going, do you think you guys will be wrapped up by the weekend?” Freddie asked, and Anthony blinked at him. He realized, suddenly, that he never told Freddie that they were done the project, except for a bit of cosmetic detailing. That he decided to keep coming to the library because he liked it.

“Write me, and I’ll see you Saturday?” Oscar suggested, and Anthony smiled.

“No,” He said as Ezra quietly confirmed, “no, I don’t think we will be.”

“Too bad,” Freddie smirked. “Mum and Dad are going away for it.”

That was almost tempting enough to change his mind entirely, but instead, he just nodded and said nothing. 

As Freddie focused on studying, Anthony tried to figure out if it was possible to be at the library during Ezra’s shift and still be able to go to Freddie’s place while his parents were gone.

He also realized that maybe, perhaps, a part of him was being extremely selfish.

~*~

“Stay,” Freddie asked Anthony from where he was sprawled out on his bed, shirt off and pants were still undone.

Anthony looked over his shoulder at him, smirking. “Can’t.” He said as he pulled his shirt back on over his head, his pants already back in place.

“Why not?” Freddie asked, shifting a bit. “Mum and Dad aren’t going to be back for hours.”

“I promised Ez-”

“You don’t need to worry about him.” Freddie waved it off. “I’m sure he gets it.”

Anthony paused his redressing a moment before turning to look at Freddie straight on. “It doesn’t matter if he gets it,” He said, grabbing his belt and putting it back on. “I told him he and I would hang out later today after his shift ends, and that’s at one.”

“So? It’s only twelve. Come back, we got time.” Freddie beckoned, crooking his finger.

Anthony rolled his eyes and fastened the buckle. “I get back on the bed, we both know I’m not leaving it for another hour, and then I’ll be late. And that’s if I don’t clean up after.”

“So don’t go at all. Just call him later, tell him you got caught up with something.” Freddie sat up, tilting his head toward the pillow. “I’ll be something.”

Anthony was very nearly tempted.

“And that Oscar bloke will probably be pretty happy about that, too.”

And now, Anthony was far less tempted.

Since meeting Oscar in March, just a couple of months ago now, Ezra wasn’t as upset about Anthony not being around. Even though he and Oscar didn’t really spend any time together outside the library, Ezra had taken to writing to him now and then, possibly even chatting on the phone. Either way, if Anthony had said Freddie wanted to do something with him, Ezra would now just shrug it off. It didn’t happen as often as it had before, but Anthony still had hoped he would be a little upset, maybe even a little jealous.

Like he was when Oscar was about.

Though that didn’t have any real influence over his decision now. As it was, he and Ezra were just starting to get back to where they were before the whole Freddie thing, and Anthony wasn’t going to ruin that.

“No,” He said with a shake of his head. “No, I promised him.”

“You know we’re not going to get away with this during the summer.” Freddie pointed out. “You guys can spend so much time together then.”

“If I start blowing him off for you again, he’s not going to want me around for the summer.” Anthony pointed out as he found his shoes. He sat in Freddie’s desk chair, putting them on. “Maybe not at all.”

“Good,” Freddie said.

That stopped Anthony short. “Sorry, what?”

“I said good,” Freddie repeated nonchalantly.

“Wh-how? How is that good?”

“Well, he’s one of only, what, four other gay guys at school?”He replied with a shrug.

Anthony stared at him, two thoughts both trying to get out at once. The first being, _I’m not gay_ , the second being _what the fuck is your point?_

Freddie continued before he could speak.

“He’s not taking that Oscar guy up on a date, which means he probably had someone in mind already. And who did he spend all his time with before? You. And while he _obviously_ doesn’t stand a chance in Hell with someone like you, I don’t really like the idea of him being alone with my boyfriend.”

Anthony blinked. “The fuck are you on?” He asked. “Doesn’t stand a chance in Hell? What the fuck are you on about?”

“Well, have you seen him?” Freddie asked, swinging his feet off the bed.

“Umm, yes,” Anthony said.

“Well,” Freddie said as if it were obvious what his point was. When Anthony continued to stare at him, he laughed nervously. “Anthony, he’s…well, come on, he’s-”

“Beautiful.” Anthony supplied.

Freddie frowned. “Well, yeah, sure, I guess he could be if-.”

“No, there’s no could. He is.”

Freddie met Anthony’s gaze and held it. “You think he’s…” Freddie paled. “Tell me he doesn’t stand a chance, Anthony.”

“No.” He said, resuming putting on his shoes before getting up with enough force that the chair rolled back, bumping the desk.

“No?” Freddie half yelled as he got off the bed and followed. “No? What do you mean ‘no’? No, he doesn’t stand a chance?”

“No!” Anthony yelled over his shoulder. He stopped not far from the door, turning to face a panicked, part-angry, half-naked Freddie. “I don’t know.” He confessed to the guy he’d been in bed doing things they both knew they were way too young to be doing. A guy who claimed nearly all his firsts, and did so with Anthony more than willing.

A guy who deserved to know that, despite all that, there was a portion of his heart that hadn’t let go of the hope that Ezra felt the same. One that stayed silent when a fit, funny, charming bloke made it all too clear he wanted Anthony.

“You don’t know,” Freddie repeated incredulously. “Seriously?”

“Yeah,” Anthony replied. “I dunno. But what I do know is he’s my best mate, and I haven’t gotten to see much of him, just him, in a while.”

“He’s around without his sister all the time, now.”

“Yeah, but when I go see him at the library, or-or if we happen to go to mine after school, or if we are _anywhere_ you can be, too, you sort’ve invite yourself along.”

“Because I don’t like the idea of my boyfriend hanging around the guy that looks at him all soppy like.”

“Simon sees you bloody near-naked in the locker room twice a week, and do you hear me say anything? Least when I see my best mate we keep our clothes on.” Anthony shot back.

“Simon’s not my best mate, he’s my teammate.”

“And he’s bloody into you! And no, he’s not your best mate, but you’re mates.”

“And if he were to ask me to hang about him instead of you, I would still pick you.” Freddie shot back.

“Oh, so it’s down to Ezra or you, is it? Want me to choose? Guess what, he wins.”

“Don’t say that.” Freddie hissed as Anthony turned and marched for the door.

“I just did. Say it again, if you want me to. Extra loud, make sure it gets through that thick skull of yours!” He growled, throwing open the front door.

“You leave here for him, we’re done, Anthony.” Freddie threatened.

Anthony froze. He took a breath, then another, then slowly turned around. “You’re threatening to break up with me if I go see my friend? Really?” He asked. When Freddie didn’t react, Anthony took a step backward out the door tossing his hands out to the side in a wide shrug. “Guess we’re done.” He said, leaving the door open as he turned around, stuffing his hands in his pockets and walking down the drive without looking back.

Anthony’s mind buzzed the whole way to the library. He wasn’t even sure how he walked there without getting hit by a car, his mind reeling over how quickly things went bad. He just suddenly realized he was looking at the fancy, cobblestone path that led to the front entrance of the building.

He stepped onto the paved porch under the overhanging roof, the drizzle of rain that peppered his skin and hair and clothes suddenly absent and somewhat shocking his senses. Anthony considered going inside, going to the door and turning around, pacing about before he finally collapsed on the bench and buried his face in his hands.

His skin still smelled like Freddie’s body wash where they showered after their more vigorous activities. They had been lounging on his bed, snogging when Anthony had realized the time. It hadn’t even occurred to him that Freddie had only gotten just dressed enough to seem to be actively putting on clothes until now. They’d literally only just gotten then pants and trousers on before he’d pulled Anthony back down on the bed with him.

Had that been the plan? Snog him into wanting more and make him late for Ezra? It wouldn’t be the first time it happened.

“Anthony?” A deep voice said his name, and he peeked up to see the very concerned face of bloody Oscar looking at him. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” He half-choked out the reply. “Yeah, I’m fine, mate.”

Oscar nodded, then brightened a little. “Ezra told me you two got high marks on that English project you guys had. Well done.”

Anthony snorted, shaking his head. “Yeah.” He half smirked.

Oscar looked around, shifting from one foot to another. “Do you… do you want to walk in with me?”

“No, no, I’m just going to wait out here for him,” Anthony replied.

“Do you want me to tell him you’re out here?”

Anthony just shook his head this time.

“Alright. Well, I’ll see you around then.” Oscar said with a flash of a grin and a wave before heading inside, the automatic doors sliding quietly open for him.

When he disappeared, Anthony reburied his face in his hands, rubbing them against his skin.

He supposed he should have seen it coming, not that he had had any experience with this sort of thing. He hadn’t had any experience with anything before Freddie, with the exception of a few kisses with Jane. A gorgeous face turned his way, smiled just right, and next thing Anthony knew he was taking a million light-year, freestyle dive into _everything._ It had been thrilling, but dangerous. Easy to let someone be your everything when they gave you everything. And all those times, all the pleads and begs for just a little longer until he’d forsaken time with anyone else….

Anthony vowed to himself it would never, ever happen again.

“Anthony?” Ezra’s voice, rich with pleasant surprise, brought Anthony back to reality. He looked up at Ezra with a slight smirk on his face before getting to his feet. Ezra was smiling tentatively. “When I didn’t see you inside, I thought maybe… maybe Fredrick had commandeered more of your time.”

It’s funny, Anthony had just broken up with a bloke he was pretty crazy about, who he’d given nearly all of his firsts to, and yet it was this that really broke his heart: the resignation and understanding in Ezra’s tone.

“Uh, no,” Anthony said, looking at his feet, shaking his head. “No, we, uh, we broke up.”

“Oh,” Ezra said, his face falling. He closed the distance between them, then surprised Anthony by pulling him into a hug. “I’m sorry to hear that,” Ezra said genuinely.

Anthony slowly put his arms around Ezra, realizing as he did that he couldn’t recall the last time they hugged. Prior to Freddie, they hugged, perhaps not often, but they did. The touched, casual brushes and squeezes of arms, snatching hands. He didn’t realize until just now that Ezra had stopped his little signs of affection, and it made Anthony squeeze tighter.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Ezra asked against his shoulder.

“No, not really,” Anthony replied.

Ezra nodded as he pulled back. “Well…” He wrung his hands, glancing about. “Is it too soon to say I never really liked him? Or is the ex-boyfriend bashing supposed to come after a certain time period. I’m not sure, really, Eliza seems to go for it immediately, but when Deidre and that bloke from across town split, she wouldn’t let anyone say anything bad about him for weeks. Drove Eliza mad.”

Anthony’s nostrils flared as he maintained a laugh. “Nah, say how you really feel.”

“Oh, good.” Ezra relaxed. “He was terrible for you, really. An awful influence. You’re much better off without him.”

Anthony nodded. “Probably.”

“Well, nothing more to say on the matter, I suppose,” Ezra said, glancing around. “Perhaps we can grab a small bite before heading home to mine. I’m famished.”

Anthony smiled, “Yeah, we can.”

“Oh, excellent,” Ezra said, taking his umbrella out of his bag. “Oscar told me about this little bakery around the corner. That’s actually where he popped over for lunch. He offered to get me something, but I knew I was meeting you and didn’t want you to be without.”

Ezra kept talking, and for the most part, Anthony continued to listen.

But he was also dealing with the reality that, while he’d been being an idiot with Freddie, someone else came into Ezra’s life and seemed to take a meaningful place in it.

His heart broke more over that than it even considered doing over Freddie Martin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from "Falling in Love (With my Best Friend)" by Matt White


	10. I Wonder What You're Doing For the Rest of Your Life

**2019**

Crowley stared at the bouquet on his work desk and scowled. Not because there was something wrong with it, it was a very lovely, well-made piece for a lucky lady who was to receive it for her birthday. Crowley was scowling at it because the word “birthday” had him thinking about Ezra, and of their two-night stay over plans during his birthday. Again, not a bad thing, per se. It was just that he realized something as he made the bouquet that he hadn’t thought through.

He was planning on having their mutual friends over for a small birthday dinner, but Ezra had more than just Newt and Anathema as friends.

He had Gabriel.

And that, Crowley realized, was going to cause a problem. Because, as it turns out, thinking those three little words while in Ezra’s presence after so long had made him want to make the man incandescently happy. A large feat, giving that this would be his first birthday without Eliza, but Crowley wanted to try. He’d give Ezra the stars if he thought it would help, hand a constellation just for him. And, he knew in his bones, what would make Ezra most happy would be having everyone he cared about there to celebrate his day. And if he was going to monopolize Ezra’s time by having him over for a second sleepover, he should probably invite all of Ezra’s friends whether Crowley liked them or not.

And he didn’t like Gabriel or the idea of him being anywhere near his home. But he’d do it for Ezra.

“Do you have Gabriel’s number?” He asked Anathema as she worked on an arrangement across from him.

She peeked up at him while keeping her head bowed. “I do.” She said hesitantly.

“Can I have it?” He asked through his teeth.

“Why?” She tilted her head up then.

Crowley huffed. “Can’t very well invite him over Friday if I don’t have his number, can I?”

“You could ask Ezra,” Anathema pointed out while already digging out her phone.

“Yes, but I don’t want to. I want it to be a surprise.” He said as he also got out his phone, holding it in one hand while taking Anathema’s in the other.

She watched him as he punched in the number, smirking as he gritted his teeth and hit the call button. He leaned with his elbows against to worktop, listening to the ringing coming through the line.

“Haven,” The pompous asshole answered his phone.

“Gabriel, hi, it’s Anthony Crowley.” He said, sounding as pleased with himself and the situation as he possibly could, smiling through the effort as if it could make a difference with how he sounded.

There were a few seconds of silence before, “well, this is a surprise.”

“Yeah, listen, that’s sort’ve what I’m calling you about. Ezra’s birthday.”

“He hates surprise parties.”

“Yes, I bloody well know that, thanks. I wasn’t planning a surprise party. I was, however, planning on having a few people over to mine to celebrate. We have mutual friends, he and I, but it occurred to me that he’s still friends with you, too, for some reason.”

“Yeah, well, that happens when you don’t suddenly stop talking to someone,” Gabriel replied, and Crowley could just see the smug bastard’s grin in his mind.

“Right, well. Takes two. But that’s not my point, my point is that you’re his friend, and you should be there.”

“So, you want me to be at your house Friday. Okay, fine. One question, why your house? Why not Ezra’s flat?”

Crowley grinned, “Because Ezra and Adam are staying over. A friend of mine is watching them both on Saturday.” He said, and Anathema’s sudden, jerky movements made him realize he’d forgot to tell her that.

“So, why have them stay over again, then?”

“Well, just easier, isn’t it? Boys get to both be asleep when they should be, no need to ferry anyone anywhere. And when Ezra and I go pack up his flat the next day, we can leave together.”

More quiet. “Right, okay. Sounds great. Text me your address, and I’ll be there.”

“Great, thanks, Gabe,” Crowley said, hanging up before the conversation could go further. He set the phone face down on his worktop and buried his fingers in his hair, growling.

“I’m babysitting both the kids now?” Anathema said as she began to arrange another order.

“They’ll keep each other occupied,” He replied, disgruntled.

“Is this so you and ‘angel’ can go on a date?”

“It’s so we can pack his flat up together.” Crowley countered.

“Right, yeah.” She said, nodding. “You know Gabriel’s likely going to be there, too?”

“Why? Why are you doing this to me, I thought we were friends?”

Anathema grinned. “We are, which is why I’m preparing you for the likelihood of there being someone else.”

Crowley sighed, took his fingers out his hair, and got to work on another set. He was about a third of the way through before Anathema spoke again.

“Feeling better, having done that?”

“Yes and no,” Crowley replied, focusing on the flowers. “There was a bloke, back… over a decade ago. Ezra and he got on well, they dated. Wanted to hate him, but he was a good bloke, couldn’t help but like him. Gabriel’s the opposite. Gabriel, I wanted to like despite my initial distaste for him, but just couldn’t. I mean, me, I kept my pining quiet. Ezra’s with someone, someone he really likes? I can respect that. Respect them. Gabriel? Gabriel was pompous and arrogant. Loved to go on how he got into Oxford, one of very few Americans to do so. Loved to point out how much he and Ezra had in common, though I think he was grasping at straws. His pining was not quiet, it was loud and annoying. But Ezra’s always liked him, and I know it will make him happy he’s there. I just… well, I just wish I wasn’t the bigger man.”

Anathema was nodding when he glanced up.

“Ezra used to talk about you.” She said after a bit. “I didn’t realize it was _you_ , because he used to always say ‘my old friend, Anthony’ when he started a story, but it was. Most of the things he shared, stories from his past, that thing you do when you drink and reminisce and start sentences with ‘there was this one time I’? They were about you and him.”

“Alright.” He said.

“My point is they weren’t about Gabriel. Or anyone else.” She huffed. “If this is anything like what you used to do for him, he’ll be happy.”

“Well, there’s that, then,” Anthony said as he went back to arranging flowers. “I bought a bed for the spare room.”

“Did you?” Anathema said, “why?”

“For Ezra to sleep.” He replied as he shifted a few stems around.

“What’s wrong with your bed?”

“I’ll be in it.”

“Exactly. So why not…?”

“Because sharing a bed might be a bit awkward at this point.” Crowley scowled.

“Suit yourself.” She shrugged.

He narrowed his eyes at her. “What do you know?”

“Nothing,” Anathema said as she gathered both of the arrangements she was working on, “I know absolutely nothing.” She said before moving to the walk-in fridge and ignoring Crowley’s pointed glare.

~A~

“Hey, sunshine,” Gabriel said when Ezra answered his phone while packing his overnight bag to go to Anthony’s.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” Ezra asked as he glanced at the pale blue dress shirt he set aside, as well as the plain, grey casual shirt for the packing on Saturday. He picked them up and put them in the bag on top of the brown denims he had for moving, the trousers for work underneath.

“Well, I was wondering what you were doing for your birthday, for a start.”

“Oh,” Ezra frowned. “Well, I’ll be staying at Anthony’s that night, so I imagine it will be something with him and the boys, perhaps Anathema and Newton. Maybe I can ask if you’d be welcome as well. Perhaps if he feels it might already be a bit tight, we could lunch. I’d offer Saturday, but I’ll getting the flat packed up. Oh! Maybe you could help with that?”

“Packing up your flat? I’d love to.” Gabriel said easily, warmly. He sounded hesitant like he wanted to say something else. “Do you have dinner plans? Tomorrow?”

Officially, he did not. Ezra had, however, hoped to convince Anthony that the four of them could go out together. He debated for a moment because he’d yet to mention it to Anthony, but found his heart wasn’t in it to give up hope for his original idea just yet. “Nothing concrete as of yet, but there was something in the works. I could let you know if I’m available, but please don’t stick around Tadfield on my account. If my original plan falls through, it’s fine.”

“Well, we’ll have to have another day the three of us next week. You, me, and Adam.”

“Of course.” Ezra agreed, turning his attention to his waistcoats. He could re-wear the same one and no one would be the wiser, so he opted not to pack one of those.

“Do you need anything for packing? Boxes? A truck?”

“Oh,” Ezra paused as he headed for his dresser to get socks and pants. “I hadn’t thought of that. But yes, I suppose I would need a vehicle, wouldn’t I?”

“I’ll arrange that for you, sunshine. No need to worry about it.”

“Oh, thank you. I really do owe you; you’ve been a tremendous help.”

“Just get a drink with me sometime, just us,” Gabriel replied, and Ezra tensed a bit at the hopeful lilt to the otherwise casual tone.

“I’ll see when I can arrange it,” Ezra said with a put-on smile. He and Gabriel said their farewells, and once off the phone, Ezra deflated.

 _At least_ , he thought, _my grief has waned._

Still, he moved as if through water while getting the last of his clothing items for his overnight bag, putting them in, and sinking to the bed.

He should just be done with it. Tell Gabriel there was little to no chance of them ever becoming a couple now. But the now was centered on Anthony’s reappearance, and that wasn’t something he was willing to take to the bank just yet.

“Uncle Ezra?” Adam’s timid voice spoke from the hall, and he looked up to see the concern in his nephew’s face.

“What is it, Adam?”

“Are you okay? You looked sad again?”

“Oh. No, dear boy, I’m quite alright.” He said, and when Adam continued to look at him dubiously, he added, “I’m just experiencing a bit of a grown-up dilemma.”

“Like what?” Adam asked, instantly more cheerful. He scurried into the room and hopped up on the bed, looking expectantly at Ezra.

Who, of course, couldn’t help but grin and figure out the best way to explain it. “Well. I suppose I’m feeling a bit like I need to decide which friend I like more.”

“That’s stupid,” Adam said promptly. “You don’t need a favorite friend.”

“No, you’re right, I don’t. But, you see, sometimes when you’re a grown-up, there is a friend you like more, the one you want to spend all your time with.”

Adam tilted his head. “What about your other friends? Wouldn’t they be sad you aren’t playing with them, too?”

The innocent question had Ezra giggling a bit, maturity flying out the window and well over his nephew’s head.

“Oh, I know one for sure would be very, very sad if I played with my other friend instead of him.” He said with a grin, and Adam nodded sagely.

“Then maybe you shouldn’t pick one, and just play with them both.”

It was only due to dealing with teenagers on a near-daily basis that Ezra didn’t so much as snicker.

“It’s very different for adults. Sometimes, yes, that’s a perfectly acceptable, and reasonable solution if everyone’s in agreement. But, do you want to know a secret?” He asked, and Adam nodded vigorously, his curls bouncing along. “I do like one friend more than the other, and I always have. But we got into a very silly argument a long time ago, and we weren’t friends for a while.”

“Are you friends again?”

“Yes.”

“Then it doesn’t matter,” Adam said with all the authority his almost five-year-old self could muster. “But you really shouldn’t pick favorites. One time, I played with Wensley more than Brian, and they got very mad at each other. So mad, Brian kicked over Wensley’s blocks, and he got in so much trouble.”

“I bet he did.” Ezra nodded. “And I will keep that in mind.”

“Good,” Adam said, kicking his legs out. “Can I have help with my bag? I’ve only had a sleepover at your flat before, and I don’t know what toys I should bring.”

Ezra hummed in understanding. “Then perhaps we should have a look. But remember, Warlock will have toys, too.”

~*~  
  


“I was wondering,” Ezra started, then felt fear taking over and promptly quieted.

Anthony looked at him, glancing between him and the road. They’d just dropped the boys off, and were on their way to the cafe for breakfast. And that was where Ezra was going to ask this, but he’d been looking at his friend, his Anthony, and just couldn’t help himself.

“What were you wondering?” Anthony asked his voice something gentle where it didn’t need to be.

His mouth moved, no words coming out at all, until he realized he was being ridiculous. “I was wondering if you wanted to go to dinner, the four of us, in the few hours I have between my afternoon and evening appointments.”

“Yes,” Anthony answered immediately. And then, “if… if it’s not going to throw things off too much with Adam.”

“He’s having a sleepover at his friend’s house, I’m pretty sure he’d already fairly thrown off,” Ezra smirked.

“Is there a place you two like to go, or?”

“Yes,” Ezra pursed his lips. “But I’m not terribly sure you’d be up for it.”

“If a four-year-old eats there, pretty sure I can manage,” Anthony replied, then frowned. “Wait, how old is Adam?”

“He’ll be five on August twelfth,” Ezra replied, glancing at Anthony in time to see his whole face morph into disbelief.

“The twelfth,” Anthony repeated, his temporarily brown eyes darting to Ezra. “The twelfth of August?”

“That’s what I said.”

“…Warlock was born the twelfth of August,” Anthony replied quietly. “8:16 pm.”

Ezra’s head tilted. “Adam was born at 8:12 pm.” He said softly.

“They have the same birthday,” Anthony stated the obvious, but Ezra couldn’t blame him. It felt like something surreal. “Where? Was he born… here?”

“Yes,” Ezra replied. “Warlock?”

“A private birthing hospital bit north of here,” Anthony replied, slowly shaking his head.

Ezra frowned at the private bit and very nearly asked about it. But then they rounded the corner and pulled up in front of the cafe just as Gabriel was getting out of his car and heading for the building.

“Well, that’s…”

“What the hell?” Anthony said as he parked behind Gabriel’s car, cutting the engine.

The violet-eyed man paused, then did a double-take at the vehicle before smiling.

“Hey,” He greeted as Ezra and Anthony got out of the car. “I was going to call you in a minute if I didn’t see you inside. Have you confirmed your dinner plans?”

“Ah, yes, as a matter of fact,” Ezra said, making a pointed effort not to look at Anthony. “But maybe we can do lunch?” He asked as Gabriel opened the door to the cafe for him.

“Lunch would be great.” Gabriel immediately answered. “Did you want to go somewhere special, or?”

“Oh, just nearby. I don’t have overly long.” Ezra said, fingers coming together, locking and twisting in front of his chest, as he finally brought himself to glance at Anthony.

Anthony had the slightest bit of a smirk to his lips, hair tied back in the bun he wore while working, a few stands already coming out.

And Ezra was struck by how lovely he looked for a moment and stared.

He was doing that with increasing intensity lately, the staring at Anthony. Taking in the line of his jaw, the mischievousness that lingered in every quirk of his lips, the way the light would catch his hair. He’d done all this before, long ago, but it felt so much worse now that he was older.

“Well, probably for the best we aren’t out too long, not today anyway,” Gabriel said, earning Ezra’s attention once more before he placed his order. As the barista went to get his drink, he looked to Anthony. “Are you going to text me your address for tomorrow?”

Ezra’s eyes widened as he looked back at Anthony.

His face had fallen into disappointment, and he glanced back and forth between Gabriel and Ezra before huffing. “Yeah. Text it to you later.”

“Excellent,” Gabriel said, clapping his hands together before turning back to the barista who handed him two cups. He then stepped up to Ezra, handing him on. “I’ll see you later, then,” Gabriel said to Ezra, giving his arm a squeeze.

“Of course.” He said, watching Gabriel go a moment. When he was out the door, Ezra turned to Anthony. “Your address for tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” Anthony said as he stepped up to the counter and ordered his coffee as well as his and Ezra’s usual treats.

Ezra stared at him, his heart unsure if it wanted to skip or race.

When Anthony returned, handing him his scone, Ezra took the bag while looking into those fake brown eyes. “You’re… you’re having Gabriel over for-”

“Don’t make a big deal of it.” Anthony cut him off. “It’s… nothing. It’s nothing, you know? It’s just, it’s your birthday, and he’s your friend, and we’re all going to be there.”

“Thank you,” Ezra said, his whole heart in it. He went to touch Anthony’s arm but found his waist instead. Anthony flinched, but not away, so Ezra held still. “I think it’s wonderful.”

“Yeah, well, he ruined the surprise, didn’t he? Wasn’t gonna tell you.”

“Oh, but I’m still surprised.” Ezra rushed to say. “My surprise is just a bit earlier than you expected. It’s fine, though.” He smiled, earning a slight grin from Anthony as well.

“Ngk, come on, let’s have a bite before we take off,” Anthony grumbled as he led them over to a table.

Ezra smiled to himself, bowing his head a bit. He supposed it didn’t matter whether his heart wanted to race or run. What it wanted was to be Anthony’s, plain and simple.

He just wasn’t sure he was ready for that bit yet.

~C~

“Sushi,” Crowley said as he pulled into the lot. Ezra had given him the directions, and he followed without thought. He hadn’t known what to expect when Adam seemed to cotton on to where they were going, but it hadn’t been this. He didn’t think four-year-olds got excited about sushi.

“Yes,” Ezra said as he unbuckled. “They have other things on the menu if you still aren’t up to being adventurous.”

“What’s sushi?” Warlock asked.

Before Crowley could answer, Adam said, “It’s like rice rolls, but they got stuff inside’em. Like carrots and cucumbers and things. Uncle Ezra eats once with fish, and I do, but not all the fish because some of it’s not good for kids. And some of it looks weird. But you eat it with these stick things!”

“You eat it off a stick?”

“No, you eat it _with_ sticks,” Adam explained, and Crowley realized the spark of interest in his son’s eyes meant he was likely going to be laughed at if he didn’t eat some himself.

The adults got out of the car and then helped the boys out, the four of them going to the restaurant together.

It was early enough in the evening that the restaurant wasn’t busy, and the hostess was immediately there to greet them.

“Mr. Fell, Adam!” She said with a smile. “How are you tonight?”

“We’re well, Natasha. A table for four, please.” He said, gesturing to Crowley and Warlock.

“Welcome,” She greeted them, and then led them to a table of four.

Crowley couldn’t help but notice that she only handed them two menus.

Ezra merely folded his hands on the table and smiled down at Adam before looking to Warlock. “Do you know how to read, yet, Lock?” He asked kindly.

“Lil bit.” Warlock replied frowning at the laminated sheet in front of her.

“Well, allow me,” Ezra said, getting up from his chair and gesturing for Adam to scoot. Crowley watched as Adam wriggled into the chair Ezra had been in and then moved around to sit across from Warlock. He leaned across the table and pointed at something. “This is what Adam liked,” He said, flashing a smile at his nephew who smiled back proudly. “It has cucumber and carrot. Do you like those things? They aren’t cooked if that makes a difference.”

“I like those things.” Warlock nodded seriously.

Crowley smiled as Ezra continued to point out things to Warlock, all while subtly teaching a few words to him. He liked that, he liked how it looked, watching Ezra teach his son something.

“What do you like, Mr. Crowley?” Adam asked, and Crowley turned to the curly-haired lad across from him.

“I… never cared much for sushi.” He admitted, leaning across the table to Adam. “But what I used to do, way back in the day, was let your uncle order for me. Because while I never cared for it, he knew what I’d probably like eating enough.”

Adam’s eyes widened comically. “How can you not like it? You dip it in soy sauce!”

“You like soy sauce, do you?” Crowley smirked.

“I do. I like it on all sorts of things.” Adam replied.

Someone started talking, though it wasn’t in English. Feeling a shot of panic, Crowley looked around, noticing the chef - it had to be the chef, he was dressed like one - speaking to Ezra.

Ezra who merely smiled, and then…

Then Ezra was talking back. In a foreign language, probably Japanese. What sounded like very fluid Japanese, though it wasn’t like Crowley knew for sure. He watched as Ezra placed a hand on Adam’s head, gestured across to Warlock, and he might have said his name, something coming out of Ezra’s mouth sounded vaguely like Lock. Then he mentioned Anthony, because he didn’t think there was anything in the Japanese language that sounded like his name, and Ezra was gesturing to him.

“Welcome, Anthony.” The chef said with a slight bow and a smile.

“Thanks,” He replied, not knowing what the proper thing to say was.

“Would you like to do this how we used to, my dear?” Ezra asked Crowley, who nodded.

Ezra then proceeded to continue to speak with the chef in the other language until the chef parted ways and headed back into the table.

“Holy-”

“I know, I have a standing ord-”

“You speak Japanese?” Crowley’s voice pitched higher, but he didn’t shout like he wanted to. “You speak Japanese?”

“I do,” Ezra said with a single nod.

“Since when!?”

Ezra thought about it. “Well, there was a gentleman, just a friend, who happened to speak the language. And when we, with some others, went out to places like this he would speak to the chefs and I found it fascinating. Some time learning through audio and speaking with him, I got the hang of it.”

“Huh,” Crowley said, leaning back in his chair, slinging an arm over the back of Warlock’s chair. “So, you learned an entire language just so you could order your favorite rolls?”

Ezra frowned in a put-out sort of way as the boys giggled.

“Knowing another language is a good thing.” Ezra countered.

“To be an English teacher?”

“To communicate with other people.” Ezra countered. “I don’t just speak Japanese, you know.”

“No?”

“I also speak Italian, Welsh, I attempted to learn French, but I haven’t mastered that.” He listed.

“Don’t think French would get you out of lock-up,” Crowley smirked. “Regardless of what snack you might be trying to get.”

Ezra blushed and looked away.

“What do you mean lock up?” Adam asked.

“I mean your uncle-”

“I don’t think he should hear that tale.” Ezra interrupted. He then looked at his nephew. “It means I was put in a very serious sort of time out. With police.”

Adam’s eyes widened, and Crowley heard his son whisper, “wicked.”

Crowley chuckled, and Ezra smirked ever so slightly.

The men stayed quiet, sipping tea that was brought around to them while the boys chattered about little boy things. The whole time, Crowley watched Ezra. He watched how he smiled indulgently at them both, chuckling quietly once in a while when they were particularly silly. 

And every time he did, he would peek up at Crowley, meet his eye, and Crowley’s inside would do some rearranging to make room for how much his heart swelled with deep affection. He damn near swooned each time and had to clutch his teacup just a little bit tighter as if doing so would maintain his composure and sanity.

When the chef brought out the rolls, Ezra showed Warlock the way to hold his chopsticks, glancing at Crowley a moment for permission. With his nod of approval, Ezra physically guided Warlock’s hands to hold the sticks, pointing at the way Adam had his. He placed his other hand on Warlock’s shoulder, encouraging him, damn near beaming at the boy when he successfully picked up a roll.

There were a few chuckles when Warlock dropped it in the soy sauce, and both boys giggled a little as they couldn’t fit the whole piece in their little mouths at a time, but it was so wonderful. All of it. Ezra talking to them, and to Crowley, the domesticity of it all.

 _I want this_ , Crowley thought. _I want this for my whole damn life_.

~*~

He’d left the door unlocked so Ezra could just come in once Newt dropped him off. It was ten-forty in the evening by the time he came in. Not home, not yet, but the word was there in the front of Crowley’s mind when he looked over at the front door and smiled at his best friend.

“It’s been an evening,” Ezra said as he toed off his shoes and mindlessly found the place to hang his coat after setting his briefcase down. Crowley wondered if Ezra realized how at ease he was for being at the house for the very first time.

“Has it?” Crowley asked, setting aside the paperwork he hadn’t needed to finish but worked on anyway.

“The last set of parents were a nightmare. Their son isn’t doing the best and they are utterly convinced there’s something I’m not doing to help. Which, sadly, is not the case.” Ezra replied as he moved toward the kitchen, stopping at the island and stopping. “It has just occurred to me that I’ve never been here before.” He said, then looked over his shoulder to see where he placed his things and frowned. “You know we set up our entryways the same?”

“Have we?” Crowley asked as he headed for the fridge and pulled out a bottle of wine.

“We have,” Ezra said, still looking over his shoulder as Crowley grabbed the bottle opener from the drawer in the island and removed the cork.

He set the open bottle on the island top, then turned to retrieve two glasses.

“Same concept,” Ezra said, “same layout, yours is just in a slightly larger space.” He blinked. “

“Huh.” It was all he could say as he set down the glasses beside the wine. He picked up the bottle poured them each a glass.

“How did the boys go down?” Ezra asked as he accepted the drink.

Crowley smirked. “I may have given them a melatonin to help them fall asleep.”

Ezra smiled. “Eliza did that at Christmas. Adam, when he was three, he was so wound up he kept us awake all night. So, last year she gave him one. I stayed over that night, on the couch. I half expected to be shaken awake at six in the morning, but woke on my own just before seven.” His smile turned sad. “That will be my job, now. The whole thing.”

“You’ll get through it,” Crowley promised. “And if you need help, I’ll be there.”

“Will you?” Ezra asked softly.

“Not going to get rid of me that easy, not now. Not ever again.” Crowley swore, and Ezra met his gaze, smiling genuinely once more.

“Do you remember,” Ezra said, pausing to take a sip of wine, “the very first time you and I split a bottle?”

“Ooooh, how could I forget?” Crowley replied. “First year at Oxford, just after final exams. We snuck up to the roof of the student housing, away from all the parties, and cracked one open.”

“A good one, if I recall, though I don’t remember the name.”

“No, me neither.” Crowley reflected, taking a sip. “I remember we got drunk enough neither of us dared climb back down, so we ended up kipping on the roof, curled under the blankets we brought up to sit on.”

“Was bloody cold,” Ezra grumbled. Then, with a slight blush, added, “at least the ground was. The rest, less so.”

“You never did tell Oscar, did you?” Crowley asked.

“I did,” Ezra replied. “But not until after we’d parted ways.”

They took a drink each, Crowley savoring it as much as he wanted to use it to wash away the slight discomfort that crept up.

“We kept in touch, Oscar and I,” Ezra said after a moment, moving the stem of the glass between his fingers. “I was the best man at his wedding.”

“You what?” Crowley asked.

Ezra chuckled. “We only did six or so months without speaking,” Ezra explained. “Just to reestablish how things were. A year or so later, he met Richard, and a couple years after that, they were married. It was a lovely wedding.”

“Who was your date?”

“No one.” Ezra said. “I had actually just split from someone, sort of the situation you were in when you moved here. I was leaving Oxford for Tadfield, and the man, David, he wasn’t interested in long distance. And neither was I, to be honest. I did that before, as you know, and found the entire thing tedious. And David, much as I adored him, well, I never found myself loving him.”

“Sorry to hear that,” Crowley said, not fully meaning it.

“Oh, it’s quite alright,” Ezra replied, taking a sip. “What about you? Did you ever…?”

“No. Lots that wanted to be love, I think, but never one that made it.” He said, looking at his glass, not saying what he wanted to say. But it couldn’t be helped, so he added, “not in the last ten years. Well, I suppose I did fall in love once.”

“Oh?” Ezra’s voice pitched. “Warlock’s mother?”

“No, Warlock.” Crowley grinned, meeting Ezra’s surprised gaze. “Different sorta love, I know.”

“Yes, I do believe I do.” Ezra smiled.

They held each other’s eye across the island, Crowley’s heart jumping all over the place.

“I want to know everything about you again,” Ezra said softly. “But I feel like tonight is just not the night to unpack it all. I’m exhausted, and I do have work in the morning. As do you.”

“Saturday.” Crowley offered. “We’ll spend the night at your place instead. I’ll help you pack your flat, unpack back at your new one, and then once we get the boys to bed-”

“That sounds lovely,” Ezra replied. Then, glancing in the direction of the sofa. “Perhaps we can sit and talk for a little while before turning in?”

“Yeah,” Crowley said, grabbing his glass and bringing it with him. They sat and settled, sighing before each taking another drink. “What do you think of Newt and Anathema?” Crowley asked.

“I think they would make a lovely couple if they simply used their words and told one another what it is they want,” Ezra replied easily. “They’d been flirting for nearly two years before they finally….”

“Two _years_?” Crowley asked. “Flirting for two years, and only just?”

“Oh, you know how it is.” Ezra pursed his lips. “She wasn’t available at first, and when she was, but he wasn’t ready. He started seeing one of our co-workers for a bit after Anathema started dating again, and then the co-worker left. Back and forth, circling each other but never quite landing until they finally did.”

“After a drink or two,” Crowley added.

“Isn’t that always how it goes?”

There was a tone to Ezra’s voice that Crowley didn’t want to confirm. It wasn’t something to be unpacked in a couple of hours before they needed to sleep.

“Not always.” He replied.

“It has been my experience, limited though it may be.”

“Limited,” Crowley scoffed, looking at Ezra now, seeing the cheeky gleam in his eye. “Make yourself sound like a bloody virgin.”

“By comparison to you….”

“Oh, now, come on,” Crowley grumbled, smiling the whole time, unable to limit it to something small with Ezra giggling. “What are you trying to say?”

“What I have always said,” Ezra replied. “That, despite what you try to present to the world, you have a great capacity for love, and you love freely.”

“Wouldn’t call it love.”

“No, but it’s a facsimile of it, and you mean it when you’re in it, I know you do. I’ve seen it. I’ve-” He stopped, and while Crowley wanted him to finish the sentence, he didn’t want to push. Not tonight.

Instead, they each took a drink of wine and changed the subject.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Staying in 2019 for the next one, though it might be a touch longer for the next bit.  
> Chapter title from "I wonder what you're doing for the rest of your life" by Train


	11. For A Minute I Forget That I'm Older

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is probably fluffier than the last, just an FYI

“Adam, do you want cereal or toast?” Anthony asked as he moved around the kitchen, ensuring the kettle was set to boiling.

“I like toast,” He replied in a very matter of fact way.

Ezra, who was pouring a bowl of cereal for Warlock, smiled to himself.

They may have awoken in separate rooms, but he and Anthony had emerged at the same time.

“Morning,” Anthony had grumbled sleepily as they approached in the hallway.

“Good morning, dear,” Ezra, who had always had a cheerful disposition in the morning regardless of how much sleep he had, had greeted Anthony fondly, putting his hand on the man’s bicep and gave a gentle stroke.

Anthony had promptly dropped his head on Ezra’s shoulders, earning a soft giggle. His hand found Anthony’s, and they clasped together.

“Happy birthday,” Anthony had said quietly.

“Thank you,” Ezra said as he ran his thumb over Anthony’s.

It was so natural, so very much like they had been, that he didn’t question any of it. They split off into the two separate bathrooms to grab showers, emerged dressed though not fully ready for the day, and then woke up the boys together.

It was scary and exhilarating, wonderful and weird, how well they clicked in doing all this as a unit. He had thought maybe there would be some sort of invisible line in which Anthony would want to only take care of Warlock and Ezra Adam. But it’s not how it went at all, not in the least.

They were like partners, real partners.

Anthony made Adam’s toast as if he’d done it for years, only a quick ask to Adam what he preferred on it. Ezra had given Warlock his cereal before turning to prepare his tea and Anthony’s pour-over coffee.

As Ezra set the kettle down, watching both the coffee drip and his tea steep, he felt Anthony’s hand on his lower back, earning Ezra’s attention.

“I’m going to go put in my contacts,” He said.

Ezra turned fully toward him, taking in the soft, gentle waves falling over his shoulders and Anthony had bent his head slightly toward him. Without a thought, Ezra reached up and tucked some of it back behind his ear, his fingertips grazing the small snake tattoo on his temple.

“Go on, I’ve got them.” Ezra grinned before turning back to the drinks. He sensed Anthony hovering for a moment before he left, the hand on Ezra’s lower back caressing as he pulled away.

Goosebumps rushed over Ezra’s skin and he exhaled slowly, basking in it for a moment before resuming his tasks. He prepared his and Anthony’s drinks before bringing them to the table, sitting down with the boys as they ate their breakfast.

“Uncle Ezra,” Adam said between bites of toast. “What are you going to do for your birthday?”

“It’s your birthday? Does that mean we get cake?” Warlock asked wide-eyed.

“I’m sure we’ll have something,” Ezra replied, taking a sip.

He noticed Anthony sauntering into the room, his hips moving in that way they always have, and Ezra’s nostrils flared for a quick moment in order to stop himself from grinning like an idiot.

Was there an appropriate time frame in which one should wait before asking their first love on a first date after not seeing them for ten years? It was probably, technically sooner than staying over and throwing one’s self into their family life.

 _Oh, dear lord, you still love him,_ Ezra thought, utterly resigned to the fact. He knew, he supposed he’d known from the moment Anthony said his name in the park near two weeks ago that he was going to fall right back to where he was if he’d ever really left at all. Which, the reality was, he probably didn’t.

Ezra took a sip of his tea to hide his smirk, glancing at Anthony as he sank down in his chair with his coffee. Ezra watched Anthony take a sip of his coffee, the sigh of pleasure warming Ezra to his bones far more than the tea.

~*~

“Your tests on Lear will be Monday, and from there we will begin our review for your examinations.” Ezra reminded his third-period class, who were all paying attention for the most part. “Now, that being said, today _is_ the day for you to ask any questions you may have in regards to the play. So, who would like to-”

He was interrupted by a knock on the door. Frowning, he moved toward it, opening it to one of the secretaries who was beaming at him from behind a bouquet of flowers.

“Sorry to interrupt, Mr. Fell, but these were just delivered for you at the front desk.”

“Oh, thank you, Theresa. My, these are quite lovely, aren’t they?” He smiled as he took them, doing his best to remain calm.

He wanted to kill Anthony. And kiss him. Perhaps not in that order.

There was a murmur among the class as he brought the flowers over to his desk, and noted the card in among the buds. It had the logo for The Garden in the corner, and while he couldn’t read the words right off, he recognized the slope of the writing from years of looking over papers.

“Are those from your boyfriend?” One of his students asked as he shifted the vase so he wouldn’t be tempted by the card.

“Yes,” he said, figuring it was easier than explaining the dynamics of his relationship. And because saying no would probably lead to more questions. He glanced at his class, finding an array of grins, smirks, and shock, but at least they were stunned silent. “Now, back to the lesson, then?”

~*~

“You sent me flowers,” Ezra said by way of greeting at the end of the day.

“I did,” Anthony replied proudly, turning the key in the engine. “I didn’t embarrass you with it, did I? I asked to woman at the desk-”

“You delivered them _personally_?”

“Yes,” Anthony replied indignantly, adorably put out by the very idea that he might not have. “And I asked her to get you at lunchtime, or even after school.” And then he paused, looking about the interior of the Bentley. “You didn’t take them?”

“Well, I thought since they were delivered to my classroom in the middle of class, I would leave them there. And besides, Adam and I will be going back to yours tonight. Seems silly to move such a lovely bouquet around, risking it becoming damaged. Which, is why I brought them up in the first place.” Ezra paused to reach out for Anthony’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “Thank you, dear.”

Anthony positively glowed, and to Ezra’s surprise, Anthony began to pull Ezra’s hand toward him.

Then stopped as he glanced out Ezra’s window. Ezra did the same just before Newt waved at them. Letting go of Anthony, Ezra quickly pushed the button to lower the window.

“Hi, what time were we supposed to meet at yours tonight?” Newt asked.

“After eight, let’s us have some time with just the boys first,” Anthony replied.

“Alright,” Newt nodded. “Do Anathema or I need to bring anything?”

“Wine. Got some, but she always picks the better stuff. Got nibbles already.”

“Alright, see you then,” Newt backed out, and Ezra rolled the window back up before peering at Anthony.

“What are you up to?” He asked as Anthony pulled away from the curb and into the flow of traffic.

“Nothing.” He replied. “Why would I be up to something?”

“Flowers? You already have nibbles at home.” He hadn’t realized he said it until Anthony sucked in a sharp breath and glanced at him quickly. “Oh, umm, what I mean to say is-”

“Don’t.” Anthony cut in. “Don’t take it back. My home is yours, it will always be open to you.”

“Well, I don’t know about _always_ ,” Ezra started, but he was interrupted once more.

“You will always be welcome,” Anthony said firmly. “You and Adam, both. And yes, I do have wine at home. And cake. And I’m making you dinner. Sort’ve. Alright, I’m ordering dinner, but it’s from anywhere you want.”

“That sounds lovely, my dear, thank you.”

“No problem, angel.”

Ezra smirked, fighting back the urge to lean across the space to kiss Anthony’s cheek. Too soon, it was still too soon for any of that, right? And a kiss, anywhere, was always a bit of the no go zone, the one sign of affection rarely ever doled out between them.

“You still haven’t told me what you’re up to,” Ezra said instead.

Anthony smiled. “It’s just a gathering, angel. Just our friends. Well, our friends and Gabriel. And before that, with just the boys, we’ll have a dinner the four of us.”

“Well, if you’re planning on ordering anyway, wouldn’t it be easier for the four of us to go out?” Ezra suggested. “I’ll even cover it if it’s-”

“Are you seriously offering to pay for your own birthday dinner?”

“Well, I would have any other year.” Ezra frowned.

Anthony’s face contorted in confusion. “You mean,” he said after a moment. “You mean that for the last ten years…?”

“I lived away from both mum and Eliza for the first few years you and I…. And with Gabriel, well, dinner always felt like he was trying to make a date of it. When Adam was very young, Eliza and I didn’t have the money to spare for those sorts of things, and when we did, I tended to go it alone. At least for dinner. A quick gathering for drinks had, in the last couple years, occurred. But it wasn’t anything of consequence.”

“Huh,” Anthony said as he pulled into the nursery lot. “Well, that’s not going to continue.” He said with certainty, and Ezra’s heart ached with the hope that Anthony was absolutely right.

~C~

The doorbell rang, and Crowley stopped laying out the nibbles to answer it.

He and Ezra had had a lovely meal out with the boys (Italian this time), and they’d come home to have a birthday cupcake each (and to sing loudly, and horribly off-key to Ezra). The birthday man is upstairs, overseeing that the boys get ready for bed, and Crowley is so high from the domesticity of it all that he damn near floated to the front door.

He answers it with a grin that barely drops as he sees who’s on the other side.

“Gabriel.” He greets, stepping aside.

“Anthony,” He greets.

“Call my Crowley,” he insisted as he shut the door.

Gabriel sauntered into the kitchen area, looking around and saying nothing as he put a bottle of champagne on the counter. Crowley frowned at it, wondering why the hell the idiot brought champagne. Yes, it was Ezra’s birthday, but… oh what if he preferred champagne now? A mild panic zipped through Crowley that he had to tamp down, lest he lose the high of playing house with Ezra.

“Where’s Ezra?” Gabriel asked after a moment.

As Crowley opened his mouth to respond, there was the sound of feet tromping down the stairs.

“No running!” He shouted, perfectly in sync with Ezra’s warning.

The boys emerged first, both in their pajamas moving as quickly as possible to gather their bedtime stuffies from the living room.

Ezra stopped at the bottom of the stairs.

“It appears Warlock’s nearly out of toothpaste, dear.” He said without looking at Crowley, watching instead as the boys grabbed their things.

He was in just his work shirt and trousers, now. No bow tie, no waistcoat. Ezra’s sleeves were even neatly rolled up to his elbows, and there was something about the look that made too many things churn and buzz within Crowley.

“I’ll try to remember to get some from the shops on Monday.” He said as he moved toward the stairs, clapping his hands. “Alright boys, come on. We’ll go tuck you in.”

He waited at the bottom of the stairs as Ezra turned to head back up, the boys running until they hit the stairs and then began a brisk climb.

Crowley glanced over his shoulder at Gabriel, “Be down in a sec. Make yourself comfortable.” He said absently, barely paying the man any mind before heading upstairs.

He trailed Adam as they all filed into Warlock’s room. Each of the boys seemed to have chosen a side in the bed that was normally far too big for just Warlock, both settling comfortably with their stuffies tucked to their side.

“Where we sleeping tomorrow, Uncle Ezra?” Adam asked with a thoughtful frown.

“Well, your bed isn’t big enough for both you and Warlock, but I’ll have the air mattress from when you would stay at my flat with us tomorrow, so we can blow it up and one of you can sleep on that.”

“Okay,” Adam said with a nod before looking to Warlock. “It’s like sleeping on a bouncy castle, but you’re not allowed to jump on it.”

“I know! Nathema, when we slept there, she had one for me. And I tried to jump on it once, and I almost popped it. Dad got _really_ cross with me.” He giggled, and Crowley exchanged an amused glance with Ezra from across the bed.

“Alright, you two. Stay in bed, there may be some grown-up stuff going on downstairs, just ignore us. You know Auntie Anathema gets loud sometimes.”

“She gets so loud!” Adam agreed, eyes wide and nodding.

“She’s louder than anything.” Warlock agreed.

“Alright, you two can tell her tomorrow all about how terribly loud she is, but for now you must sleep,” Ezra said as he adjusted the blanket. “And maybe, if you’re both very good and sleep well, and your dad allows it, perhaps you can have a cupcake for breakfast.”

Both boys promptly squeezed their eyes shut tight as if the very act would put them to sleep.

Crowley grinned before bending over and kissing Warlock on the forehead.

“Night, boys.” He said, reaching over and stroking Adam’s hair.

“Goodnight, you two,” Ezra said as he kissed Adam’s head and caressed Warlock’s cheek.

“Night, dad, night Ezra.”

“Night uncle Ezra, night Anthony.”

The two men crept out of the bedroom, Crowley shutting the door tight before looking to Ezra.

“Cake for breakfast?” He asked.

Ezra got a wicked glimmer in his eye as they headed slowly for the stairs. “Well,” he said. “Anathema _is_ the one who will be watching them tomorrow. So, if they happen to be on a sugar rush it’s hardly like we have to deal with it.”

“Oh, ho ho,” Crowley said, bumping Ezra’s shoulder before taking the lead down the stairs. “That’s a bit cruel, considering I have it on good authority Anathema doesn’t tend to go light on Friday nights.”

“Well, perhaps this evening she will. Oh, hold still, there a moment.” Ezra said as they reach the bottom of the stairs. He reached up, very carefully taking a strand of Crowley’s hair between in his fingers, then slowly running them down with just enough pressure to pull lightly. “You had a piece of lint or something in your hair, but I believe I got it.”

“Thanks, angel.” Crowley smiled, hand reaching for Ezra’s waist.

A throat cleared in the kitchen.

“Oh, Gabriel, hello.” Ezra greeted casually. “I hadn’t realized it was you that had arrived. Terribly sorry for keeping you.”

“It’s… it’s alright.” He said, and Crowley actually felt bad for the guy.

Gabriel stood awkwardly by the island, shoulders squared, but his hands fluttering.

If he wasn’t such a nob, Crowley might have found him attractive, having only just now noticed what he was wearing. His shirt was nearly the same color of his eyes, and his dark grey trousers were clearly tailored to fit precisely. It almost made Crowley wish he were the type of man to go out and spend a couple thousand on everyday where. Almost, he could get a very similar effect with skinny jeans and a well-fitted Henley.

“I brought champagne.” Gabriel offered brightly. “I put it in the fridge.”

“Oh, how lovely,” Ezra said politely, but with no real enthusiasm. He placed his hand briefly on Crowley’s back before moving to join Gabriel at the island. “And how are you, how have you been this week?”

“Good, very good. You know, numbers are up, things are where they need to be.” He rattled off before his expression suddenly shifted to something joyous. “Hey, happy birthday, sunshine!” Gabriel said, suddenly pulling Ezra into a tight hug.

Crowley watched, trepidation driving the pounding in his heart as he took in the interaction. Ezra’s chin was propped on Gabriel’s shoulder, and while he didn’t look uncomfortable, per se, it appeared awkward. He gave a very slight grin as he patted Gabriel a couple of times on the back, Ezra’s arms only going very loosely around Gabriel.

It didn’t seem even a fraction as intimate as his encounter with Ezra in the hallway that morning. That taking in of the sleepy warmth still radiating from the blonde’s skin, the musk of light sweat clinging to the fabric of his t-shirt. He hadn’t realized Ezra had had a particular scent, or that he missed it until he had it in his nose directly. It reminded him of years passed, waking closer than two friends probably should be, either because that’s where they passed out together, or because it’s where they chose to be.

The doorbell rang, and Ezra jumped back from Gabriel.

“Do you mind if I get that?” He asked Anthony as he was already heading for the door.

Crowley nodded, then headed for the kitchen to start getting down glasses with Newt and Anathema’s arrival.

“I don’t think I noticed you grew out your hair before,” Gabriel said conversationally. “Was it to hide the tattoo, or…?”

Crowley shrugged as he set the glasses down. “Just wanted to try it out. Had it a lot longer for a while, but then Warlock kept pulling it when he was a baby. This is from growing it out from short again once he started getting older.”

“You had your hair longer?” Ezra asked as he led Anathema and Newt in to join them.

“Yeah, down to about my mid-back.” He said. “Super curly, like you wouldn’t believe.”

“I bet it was lovely,” Ezra said as he set the wine Anathema brought on the counter and then smoothly went to get a corkscrew.

Crowley smirked as he watched Ezra go for precisely the right drawer as if he’d watched Crowley the night before.

“I liked it well enough,” Crowley said as Ezra pulled out the corkscrew and proceeded to open the bottle.

Ezra had it halfway in when he paused, looked down at his hand, then the drawer, then to Crowley. He giggled quietly as he continued to drive the corkscrew in, seeming to cotton on to the same realization Crowley had. He removed the stopper with very little effort, the pop a satisfying sound, and then proceeded to pour everyone a drink.

“Shall we make a toast?” Anathema teased. “To old friends? To us all coming together?”

“To Ezra’s birthday?” Gabriel offered, shooting a quick glare at Anathema.

“If we must,” She deadpanned, then grinned as everyone raised their glasses to the blushing blonde before taking a sip.

“You’re the talk of the school,” Newt said after having a small sip.

“Am I?” Ezra asked as he picked up a nibble and popped it in his mouth.

“Ah, yeah,” Newt said as if it would have been obvious. “Everyone was going on about Mr. Fell’s boyfriend sending him flowers.”

Ezra stopped mid-chew and turned nearly as red as the wine that Gabriel suddenly choked on. Ezra swallowed, grimacing. “Were they, now?

“Did everyone see you drop them off?” Anathema asked, leaning on the island with one arm and snagging a snack with the other.

“No,” Crowley said firmly. “Did that on purpose.” Then to Newt asked, “are they really calling me his boyfriend?”

Newt shrugged. “They’d seen you drop him off and pick him up every day for, like, two weeks. It isn’t hard for them to jump to that.”

“Well, you set them right, didn’t you?” Gabriel asked a touch of authority to his tone. “It’s your job as a teacher, isn’t it?”

Newt shrugged, avoiding eye contact with the American. “Not really anything I could say to change their minds.”

“You could start by telling them not to spread-”

“Gabriel, please,” Ezra interrupted him. “They’re teenagers. They’re going to talk about what they like, and nothing Newt says is going to change their mind.” He said, his eyes dropping to his wine glass.

“You could tell them.” Gabriel pointed out.

“Best not.” Ezra retorted, then with a nervous chuckle. “The less I bring up my personal life, the better. And they know better than to ask.”

Crowley narrowed his eyes as he took a sip of wine.

Ezra was lying. He wasn’t sure why, but Gabriel dropped the subject, and that seemed to make Ezra relax so Crowley let it go.

~*~

Anathema and Newt left before Gabriel, and he hung around until nearly eleven. Crowley hadn’t really planned anything for when it was just the two of them again, but now that they were alone Crowley didn’t think he could muster the energy for anything beyond cleaning up and going to bed.

Ezra sighed heavily as he loaded the dishwasher.

“Tired, angel?” Crowley asked as he put the leftover nibbles in the fridge.

“Exhausted,” Ezra replied as he slid the racks inside. “I wish that meant a full night sleep was awaiting me.”

“You didn’t sleep well last night?” Crowley asked, closing the fridge door and moving to grab a dishwasher tab from under the sink.

As he put it in, Ezra replied, “I slept just fine, dear. But it’s never a certainty. Sometimes I know when a spell is coming, but there’s no sure sign. And I have been this bone-tired in the past and have had sleep elude me.”

“Still won’t take anything?” Crowley asked as he closed the dishwasher and turned it on. He turned to face Ezra, leaning back against the counter.

Ezra sighed, running a hand over his face. “I have a prescription, but I loathe how I feel after taking it. And now with Adam, and my being his sole caregiver? I’m terrified I won’t wake if he needs me.”

“Do you have them with you here? I can see to him if he needs something.”

Ezra shook his head. “I didn’t take them with me, no. But you know full well how long I’ve lived with the insomnia. Admittedly the next day has been more difficult the older I’ve gotten.” He shook his head. “But you don’t need to worry, much as I appreciate the concern. I’ve learned a trick in which, so long as I simply lay there and rest, I don’t feel quite as wretched in the morning.”

“As long as you’ll be okay. We’ll have a lot to do tomorrow.” Crowley reminded.

“Yes, I know,” Ezra said, his gaze seeming miles away. “I still have trouble sometimes, wrapping my head around what’s happened. It’s disconcerting, in a way, to take over so much of what was Eliza’s life. I’m clearing out the flat that was mine to move into the one that had always been hers. I’m Adam’s parent, now. I’m the one who tucks him in and makes his breakfast. Tomorrow the last of her furniture will be replaced with mine and while I know it has to happen, I nearly feel sick with it. I don’t want to replace her, and logically I know I’m not. She’s been gone a month, Anthony. A month, and I know moving forward is healthy, but sometimes I can’t seem to catch up to reality.”

“We don’t have to do it tomorrow, Ezra,” Crowley said gently, pushing off the counter and inching closer to the blond. He rested his hand on Ezra’s shoulder and was pleased when Ezra’s hand covered his.

“I know, but we should. I know my landlord, and he’ll want to start showing the place if he hasn’t already. I loathe the idea of people seeing my things, my books. And since I have the chance to clear it out, I should. Besides, I’ll have final projects and tests and papers to grade before exam time.”

“Alright, as long as you’re sure,” Crowley said, wishing Ezra would look at him.

He still seemed like his mind wasn’t with him.

“I got to say goodbye to her.” He said thoughtfully. “I got to hug her, and kiss her, bid her farewell. I got to hug the man who was supposed to be my brother-in-law, and wish him luck. I got to tell them both that I loved them, and they got to say it in return. I was incredibly lucky.” He said wistfully.

“Yes, you were.” Crowley agreed.

Ezra met his gaze then. “I’m incredibly thankful that… _that_ is no longer the last thing we will have ever said to each other.”

“Me too.” Crowley nodded.

Ezra then took his hand off Crowley’s and reached for him, pulling him in by the waist and holding him. Crowley looped his arms around Ezra’s neck and closed his eyes. They simply stayed together like that, everything quiet except the hum of the dishwasher and the whir of the refrigerator.

“I apologize for being so maudlin, my dear. It’s only that this has been the best birthday I have spent in a long time, and I was feeling rather guilty that it was the first one without Eliza.”

“She wouldn’t have been upset, angel. Eliza’d be happy that you were happy.”

“I know.” He said softly, slowly pulling away. He gave Crowley a tired, sad, grateful smile. “I think I need to turn in, else I could very well fall asleep on you. And, frankly, thirty-three is far too old to cuddle on the kitchen floor.”

Crowley barked a laugh. “That happened once.”

“Once was more than enough.” Ezra retorted. “Goodnight, Anthony.”

“Night, Ezra.” He replied, watching as Ezra headed for the stairs, slowly climbing up.

Crowley basked in the silence, feeling the warmth Ezra provided slowly leech away while the fuzziness inside lingered. He waited until it subsided, and he was sure Ezra was settled in his office, before slowly making his way up the stairs himself.

As he was brushing his teeth, it suddenly dawned on Crowley that Ezra hadn’t seemed surprised in the least about the rumor going around the school that he and Crowley were a couple. He didn’t laugh it off, he didn’t say anything about it being ludicrous. He didn’t even want to correct them on it.

“Hoeey ship!” He exclaimed around a mouthful of toothpaste. He spit it out, rinsed, finished his routine, and went to bed grinning like the absolute idiot he knew he sometimes could be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heads up, I am still a few chapters ahead right now. However, they just closed schools in my area for the next month. That said, writing usually happened mostly during the school day while my lil guy was in class. That being said, I will likely have a bit less time to work on this as I'll be overseeing his at-home education (cause, yeah, what kid wants to do school work when there are a dozen other fun things). I might surprise myself, but I wanted to have everyone prepared in case it comes to pass that it takes closer to a week than three days.  
> Stay safe and sane, everyone.
> 
> Chapter title from "Say You Won't Let Go" by James Arthur (though the Boyce Avenue cover fits these 2 better)


	12. Defenses Paper Thin

**2002**

It became very clear very quickly to Anthony that being gay wasn’t considered a crime, but breaking the heart of the football team’s most valued player was.

The backlash was absolutely astonishing. Even a week later there were glares that followed Anthony around the school, harsh whispers and sneers. Ezra had been called a couple of foul names, accused of adultery like he’d broken up a marriage, but the blonde took it in stride. Anthony hated those bits the most.

He thought, maybe, that after the first week people would leave them be. That things would settle down, and everyone would move on, what with exams creeping up and prep for sixth form looming. But they didn’t, and Anthony was beginning to regret having ever met the bastard.

“It will get better.” Ezra attempted to assure Anthony as they crossed the school grounds, unfortunately near the football field, and the entrance for the players to get to the locker rooms. Just seeing them set the hair on the back of Anthony’s neck on end. “Eliza assures me that they’ll let it go eventually.”

“How can Liza be sure? She breaks up with a bloke and three more are ready to take his place. I break up with a bloke and it’s like I bloody committed murder.”

“Well,” Ezra stuttered. “I’m really not sure, to be honest. She just said-”

“Aw, look at the happy couple.” Freddie cooed, causing both of them to come to a standstill.

Anthony’s heart launched in his throat, and he damn near wanted to vomit as he saw Ezra’s brow furrow. He hadn’t actually explained the entire reason why he and Freddie split, thinking it would likely drive Ezra off if he did. Now Anthony could see the fight or flight instincts of his best friend kick in, the way his eyes darted about like a frightened animal, looking for a form of escape.

“What’s the matter?” Freddie asked conversationally. “I mean, I thought you would be all over each other, now. It’s what Anthony had wanted to whole time, apparently.”

“Shut it, Martin.” Anthony hissed, looking over his shoulder at his ex, glaring.

Freddie appeared cool, calm, collected. “Why? You did say you’d choose him over me.”

Ezra flinched, and Anthony swallowed the lump in this throat.

Deflection. He needed to deflect.

“Well, maybe if you weren’t such a needy, self-obsessed whiner, I wouldn’t have had to be forced into the choice.” Anthony countered.

“Oh, me self-obsessed? Me as needy?”

“You never let me leave.”

“Oh, no, baby, I just made sure you never _wanted_ to. Well, almost never.” He said with a shrug, before looking to Ezra. “Can you do that, Fell? Can you make him so weak in the knees he can’t get up?”

Anthony wanted to die. He wanted the ground to open up and swallow him whole, but maybe not until after he threw one good punch at his ex for being such a-

“Well, that’s not very gentleman-like, is it?” Ezra said in a conversational tone, and Anthony snapped his head in his direction.

Ezra very carefully lowered his bag to the ground, straightened out his sweater, and then proceeded to unbutton his shirt sleeves.

It was an oddly fascinating thing to watch, momentarily throwing Anthony off from the situation they’d found themselves in. Ezra opened the cuff on each sleeve, then neatly and deftly rolled each one up into a tidy roll that bared his forearms to the world. Anthony had seen his forearms, of course. They had had sleepovers and gone swimming during the summers but his brain had never fully grasped how a forearm could be attractive until just this moment.

“What?” Freddie said, sounding oddly dazed. Anthony pulled his gaze away long enough to see Freddie was as affixed on them as he was. Huh.

“I said,” Ezra, continued, moving his hands up to undo his tie, slipping the strip of cloth from his neck and folding it quickly before pocketing it. “That that’s not very gentleman like. Mocking your former lover, that is.”

Freddie scoffed, seeming to come back to himself. “My lover?” He mocked.

“I’m fully aware of the activities the pair of you got into,” Ezra lied, seeing as how it was never really discussed how far Anthony had gone with Freddie. “And I do believe that they fall under the category of lover. Maybe not a _great_ one, but one nonetheless.” Ezra said as he slowly approached the football player who had a good few inches on him.

And drawing a crowd. Football players had stopped their trek to the change room to watch, elbowing each other in a laughing way as they pointed at the scene. People who had been on their way home stopping a ways away from the sidelines. Anthony even caught Eliza’s eye from where she was with Deidre and a few other girls, the two sharing a “what the hell is Ezra doing” look before both turning back to the scene before them.

Freddie laughed incredulously. “Not a great one?” He put his hands on his hips. “Did you hear what I just said?”

“Oh, I heard you, I just don’t believe you,” Ezra said as he got as in Freddie’s face as he was able, being a few inches shorter. “You don’t really strike me as someone who is actually willing to give.”

Anthony froze, his heart pounding, as Freddie loomed over Ezra.

“What would you know about any of it?” Freddie asked. “Do you think someone’s actually going to want to fuck a guy like you?”

“Now that’s not very sporting.” Ezra frowned, nearly pouting.

“I’m sorry, what?” Freddie countered.

“Sporting. No, I get where you would draw the conclusion from, I really do.” Ezra said as he gestured to himself. “But I believe we were discussing your lack of prowess.”

“I’ll show you prowess, pansy.” Freddie bit out.

“Will you? Do you even know what it means?” Ezra asked with a menacing gleam that Anthony should not find attractive, but he really did. That didn’t stop him from starting to panic and willing his limbs to move as he noted Freddie’s muscles coiling, gearing up for a fight, and Ezra about to do the same.

“Ezra, Ezra!” A deep voice shouted, and the next thing Anthony knew there was a blur of black coming between his best mate and his ex.

Oscar was pulling Ezra behind him with great effort, all the while looking at Freddie.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Oscar asked him in a polite tone.

“I think I’m going to kick his blonde ass.” Freddie countered, giving Oscar a shove. He stumbled but didn’t retaliate or back down.

“Mate, I’m sure you’re probably really tough and all. But let me tall ya, I have watched him for months carry stacks of books up and down ladders, and stairs, and all around the library. And I’m not talking paperbacks, I’m talking thick, leather and board bound tomes. I’m sorry, you might be scrappy, but I’m willing to bet this ‘pansy’ will break your pretty face before you have a chance to move. So, back off.”

Freddie glanced away, looking around, and Anthony risked a chance of doing the same.

There were three others nearby, all Oscar’s age by Anthony’s guess. Another guy who was holding two bags, a girl, and one Anthony couldn’t peg if he tried. They were observing, staying well out of the way, much like everyone else at this point. The trio, though, didn’t look like they were ready to start rooting for someone in a fight.

A fight that Oscar had stopped and Anthony returned his attention to the main scene.

Freddie pursed his lips, then nodded, seeming to agree with Oscar. Oscar backed off, his shoulders slumping as he patted Ezra on the back and moved to collect his bag from the guy holding it out for him.

“You’re lucky he stepped in and saved you.” Freddie leaned into Ezra with a grin.

It was lightning quick, and the crack was loud, nearly an echo in the silence, and sickening. A blink and Freddie went from cocky and smarmy to screaming, cupping his face and folding in half. Ezra merely watched, his jaw still clenched but an otherwise impassive look on his face as he withdrew a tissue from his pocket and wiped the blood off his hand. There was a mixed reaction from the crowd. Gasps and disbelieving laughter. Lots of cursing, plenty of staring, but no one seemed to jump in on Freddie’s behalf. Even Simon simply came to collect his teammate, turn Freddie around, and try to get him to lift his face as he led him to the locker room.

Ezra paid no attention to any of it as he turned around, picked up his bag, and shouldered it. He continued in the same direction he’d been heading in before, seemingly oblivious to Anthony and Oscar as they flanked him. He didn’t even pause when he discarded his tissue, and rounded the corner onto the street, heading toward the library.

It wasn’t until they were well away from the school that Ezra gave something between a sigh and groan, and slumped against a building, clutching his wrist.

“He’s much more hard-headed than I had thought he would be.” He said, shaking out his hand. “Though I must say that was entirely too satisfying.”

“The idea was for you _not_ to get into a fight.” Oscar chided.

“Fight? What fight, he took him out in one punch. _One punch,_ ” Anthony’s voice pitched. “How? Why?”

“He insulted you,” Ezra replied as if it were obvious. “I really don’t care what he says about me, everyone says it anyway. But he insulted you when he claimed to care for you.” He blushed. “Admittedly, it was his taunting me, thinking I needed someone to save me that made me hit him. I’m not sure why I did it, I really don’t care for violence over much.”

“It was a great punch,” Anthony said, realizing quite suddenly he was experiencing a very interesting side effect to having Ezra stand up for him. He took a few deep breathes, willing himself to calm down before anyone noticed.

“We should get you to the hospital. You might have broken your hand,” Oscar scolded.

“Oh, hardly,” Ezra said as he shook it out once more and flexed his fingers. “I have no doubt I bruised them a little bit, but my father had taught both myself and Eliza how to throw a punch very young. He never liked bullies, and while he always wanted us to use words first, he knew sometimes we may need to defend ourselves. Of course, I don’t quite think this is how he meant it.”

“I missed the first part of what was happening,” Oscar said, directing his attention to Anthony. “So what does Ezra mean when he says he insulted you?”

Anthony blushed. “Well, umm…. To be honest, he insulted _me_ very little. Called me needy and whiny. Ezra, though, he-”

“I don’t care what he said about me,” Ezra said flatly.

Oscar met Anthony’s eyes, and by unspoken agreement, they would talk about it while Ezra was working.

“Now,” Ezra said, pushing off the wall. “I would like to get a nibble before starting my shift. Oscar, Anthony was going to join me, if you’d like to as well?”

Oscar nodded in agreement, and he and Anthony once again flanked Ezra as they continued on to the library.

~*~

“He’s never done that before?” Oscar asked quietly, he and Anthony with their heads bowed toward each other, distantly watching Ezra re-shelf books.

“When he first started at the school, there were gangs who seemed to seek him out daily. He never once so much as stood up to them, let alone throw a punch.” Anthony replied, having related a blow by blow to Oscar of what happened with Freddie. “I don’t know what happened.”

Oscar tapped his pen against his notebook, watching Ezra.

“I did warn the guy. You know I tried lifting a stack like he does? Not easy, he’s ….”

“Yeah,” Anthony half sighed. “He really is.”

Oscar smiled. “So, you _did_ break up with Anthony for him.”

“No!” Anthony said a bit too loudly, then ducked his head when he realized he drew the attention of others, Ezra included. “I mean, yeah, sort’ve. But it was more the ultimatum.”

“But you…?” Oscar asked quietly.

Anthony stared after Ezra again, watching him as he worked.

“You know he was my first real friend?” He said quietly, just for Oscar to hear. “I had to work up the nerve to talk to him because I could see he was good, like truly good, and I wasn’t sure I was. I… care for him a lot. But I don’t want to risk… what if we become like me and Freddie?”

Oscar frowned when Anthony looked at him, then glanced at Ezra.

“I like him, too. A lot.” He said. “But I need you to know that if you don’t make a move, I will.”

Anthony smirked. “Didn’t he already turn you down once?”

“Yeah,” Oscar nodded. “But he didn’t know me then. He knows me now. Until he gives me a solid no, a never, I may keep trying.”

Anthony thought about that and hated how it twisted his stomach. He disliked the thought of Ezra being with anyone but him. But how was that fair? How was it that he could have had Freddie, but Ezra could ever only be his?

Instead of countering Oscar, instead of speaking up and saying he’d fight back, Anthony went quiet and focused on his exams.

~A~

“You look terrible.” Ezra greeted Anthony as he walked into his room.

They had had plans to do something, anything, just them during their last days of their summer vacation. So, he’d let himself in the gate, greeted the housekeeper when she opened the door for him. They made their normal small talk before she said he was in his room, and Ezra bid her a good day.

She didn’t say he was still in bed, she might not have known.

“I feel like shit,” Anthony grumbled, pale and sweaty, curled in on himself. “Mum’s gonna take me to the hospital.”

“Oh,” Ezra said, hands fluttering around him as he glanced around Anthony’s room. 

Anthony retched, and while he did cringe, Ezra still went over to the bed and attempted to soothe him while Anthony groaned in agony over his garbage can.

“Alright, sweetie,” Erica Crowley’s voice came from the hallway. “I called the office, let them know I likely won’t be in for a couple days, and the car is… Ezra.” She said she came into the room, taking in the scene.

“Hello, Doctor Crowley,” He greeted as Anthony retched again. His hand moved absently on Anthony’s back while he met Erica’s gaze. “Is he alright?”

She pursed her lips as she crossed her arms. “Very sure he has appendicitis.”

“Oh,” Ezra’s eyes went wide and he looked back over at Anthony as he flopped back on his back.

“I’m dying.” He said, his voice gruff.

“Not on my watch,” Erica said. “Come on, up. I called ahead to A&E, they’re waiting for us.”

Anthony, still in his pajamas, slowly started to get up. Ezra helped him, taking him by the arm before gently putting it over his shoulder, keeping his hand on Anthony’s upper back.

He helped Anthony out of the room and down the stairs, Erica leading the way, glancing over her shoulder every few seconds. She opened the front door for them, and Ezra heard her apologizing to the housekeeper for the state Anthony’s room will be in as he led the patient to the car idling in the drive.

“Come with me,” Anthony whined as Ezra lowered him into the backseat.

“I’m not sure I can,” Ezra replied.

“Please?” Anthony whimpered, clutching at his abdomen. “If I’m gonna die, I want my best friend at my side.”

“You’re not dying, honey,” Erica said as she came up to the car. “And if Ezra really wants to, he can come with us. You’re probably going to be brought into surgery, though.”

“Come with me,” Anthony said again, his unusual eyes seeming sadder than anyone had the right to pull off.

“Of course,” Ezra replied without hesitation, encouraging Anthony to sit back so he could close the door, going around the car to get in on the other side with him.

“Ezra, there’s a pale back there should Anthony feel sick again,” Erica instructed as Ezra buckled in, then helping Anthony as Erica pulled out of the drive.

“He was fine last night when we talked.” He said, not minding terribly when Anthony shifted to lean against Ezra, only giving a slight whimper.

“It comes on fast, sometimes,” Erica replied. “He woke up in pain not long ago, and Doctor instincts took over.”

Ezra nodded, glancing at his friend in the corner of his eye. Anthony whimpered, and since he couldn’t get his arm around his shoulders, Ezra took his hand and held it.

It wasn’t a long drive to the hospital, and Erica told them to wait in the car while she ran off to get a wheelchair.

“Ezra,” Anthony groaned, his hand clammy as he gave a squeeze. “Hurts.”

“I know.” He said, though he really didn’t. “You’ll be okay, though.”

“Okay,” Erica said as she opened the car door. Ezra unbuckled Anthony, and then Erica helped her son out of the car and into the wheelchair. “Let’s go.”

Ezra followed helplessly, offering to at least push Anthony while Erica led them into the A&E. She went to the intake desk, started to talk to the nurse there, rattling off a lot of medical information, Ezra only catching and understanding half of it. He was then instructed to wheel Anthony around into triage.

They weren’t there long before Anthony was admitted, and the three of them went into the back where he was put in a bed, and an ultrasound machine was brought out. Then a nurse came around, taking some of Anthony’s blood.

All the while, whenever he could, he held Anthony’s hand. He endured the squeezing, the pinching, and let his thumb caress Anthony’s in a soothing manner.

“Here, Ezra,” Erica said as she withdrew her cell phone from her pocket. “Call your mum, let her know where you are. You might be here a bit.”

Ezra nodded, flipping the device open, and dialed his home phone.

“Hello?” Eliza answered.

“Is mum around?” Ezra asked, glancing at Anthony as he groaned. Ezra squeezed his hand.

“Uh, no, she’s gone to the store. Why, aren’t you at Anthony’s?”

“He went to the hospital, I’m with him, he’s-”

Anthony snatched the phone from Ezra’s grip and put it to his ear. “Dying. I’m dying, Eliza.” He whined in a gravelly voice.

Ezra rolled his eyes and took the phone back, putting it to his ear and hearing Eliza absolutely losing it. It was contagious, and Ezra could barely contain his own laughter upon hearing it.

“I’m here, with him, and maybe be for the day. His mum thinks he’s likely to get surgery.”

“Alright,” Eliza said, her laugh tapering off. “Is he alright, though?”

“A little sick seems to be in quite a bit of pain.”

“Dying!” Anthony interjected.

“Well, I'll let mum know if you run late,” Eliza said. “Keep me updated.”

“Will do,” Ezra said before ringing off. He set the phone down, then met Anthony’s pain-laced gaze. On impulse, he reached with his free hand and smoothed back Anthony’s hair.

Anthony leaned into it like a cat.

“Anthony,” A man said, and Ezra turned toward him. It was oddly like being slapped in the face.

Erica was worrying her lip, looking between her son, Ezra, and the red-haired, brown-eyed lithe Doctor.

“I’m Doctor Adams. Mind if I have a quick look there?”

Anthony grunted, and Ezra stepped awkwardly out of the way, watching as Doctor Adam’s palpated Anthony’s abdomen. He winced in sympathy, wanting to reach out and take Anthony’s hand again when he nearly cried.

Doctor Adam’s hummed. “You were right, Erica.” He said over his shoulder.

“Of course I was.” She said with confidence and superiority despite the worry on her face. “How long?”

“He’s emergent, but he doesn’t need to be rushed. So, we’ll give him something for the pain until it’s time to bring him in.”

Erica went to Anthony’s other side, smiling down at him as she smoothed back his hair.

“Well,” She said, earning his attention. “As a mother, I’m really hoping this is going to be your first time high.”

“H-high?” Ezra stuttered.

Erica hummed. “Yeah, morphine is fun like that.”

“I’ll have the nurse come by, start the IV, get you pain-free in no time.” Doctor Adam’s said, closing Anthony’s chart. “Erica?” He said, gesturing with his head for Anthony’s mum to follow. She nodded, kissing Anthony quickly on the forehead, squeezing Ezra’s shoulder as she passed him, and left with the Doctor.

Anthony whimpered, and Ezra went to his side, taking up his hand once more, and waited with him.

~C~

His head felt fun. Not funny, no, it felt _fun_. Like when he was little and he would spin around in circles really fast. Or, no, not _quite_ like that, but similar. It was like he couldn’t keep his mind from spinning even as he stood still, but without all the unpleasantness.

“Think something might be wrong,” Anthony said, but he didn’t sound like he really cared if something was wrong. At least the pain was gone.

“Why do you say that?” Ezra asked, and Anthony flopped his head toward him.

Bloody hell, he was pretty. All round-faced, and cloudy blonde hair, and those really pretty blue eyes.

“Why did I think Freddie was pretty? He wasn’t pretty.” He said, the filter on his thoughts dangerously gone. “Wasn’t pretty when you punched’im in the face, that’s for sure. Remember that? His face was not pretty.” Anthony shook his head and immediately regretted it. A nurse passed by, and he waved at her.

“Hey, sir, mister, nurse…person. I think something might be wrong. I’m all… wooooo.” He described.

Ezra snorted, and he frowned, moving his head a little to see that wonderful little grin before looking at the nurse.

“You’re high, man.” He said.

“Oh, you’re an American! Ez, Ezra, he’s ‘Merican!”

“Yes, I heard that.” Ezra patted his hand.

“Your boyfriend’s going to be like this until the morphine wears off, just a heads up.”

“Oh, he’s not, we’re not,” Ezra stuttered.

“He’s got a boyfriend and it’s not me!” Anthony declared. “Bastard named Oscar, though he’s not really a bastard, and he’s not really his boyfriend. But might as well be. There’s pining. I know, I’ve seen it. And felt it.”

“You’re pining for Oscar?” Ezra asked.

“Noooo.” Anthony dragged the word out. “No, wanna hate 'im though. Can’t. Too damn nice. Hey, hey Ezra.” He beckoned Ezra closer with on hand, and the jerk had the audacity to be smiling. “He gonna be mad we’re holding hands?”

“No, I don’t think Oscar will be mad we’re holding hands,” Ezra assured, patting their joined hands before looking over his shoulder. “He’s definitely experiencing some side effects.”

Anthony leaned his head back and saw his mum coming from around the corner.

“Mummy!” He cried with delight. “I don’t hurt anymore. Or feel sick. ‘S great.”

His mum grinned. “I’m glad, sweetheart.”

“Why’d that Doctor look so much like me?” Anthony went to the next thought that popped in his head. “He like a relative or s-something I dunno ‘bout?”

“He’s, um, just a Doctor I went to school with.” She answered in a way that made Anthony suspicious.

“Awesome.” He said, looking up at the ceiling. “There’s a weird tile up there.”

He focused on the tile, discolored from the others from something. Might have been time, might have been water. Anthony didn’t know.

Anthony then flopped his head back to Ezra who just continued to watch him.

“You’re like a bloody angel.” He said.

“Oh, stop.” Ezra rolled his eyes, looking over at Anthony’s mum.

“You are.” Anthony pouted. “Dragged me here, didn’t ya?”

“No, your mum brought you, and you asked me to come.”

“Always good to me, always nice.” Anthony nodded, not really caring too much about the logistics. He gestured at Ezra’s face. “Got the whole look goin’, too. Angel. Pretty angel. Gonna call you that from now on.”

“That has implications,” Ezra said, a nice pink coming to his cheeks.

“Stop using big words, angel. ‘M high.” Anthony protested, earning a giggle from Ezra. “Mum, you think he looks like an angel, don’t ya?”

“He’s… very cherubic, yes.” She agreed, and Anthony felt smug. And a little dizzy, but the nice kind of dizzy.

“Hey, ‘m I gonna have big scar? Like, really big?”

“Probably not.” His mum answered.

“No scar, angel.” Anthony pouted.

“You’ll have a scar, Anthony. Just not a big one.” Ezra soothed. “Why would you want a big scar anyway?”

“Chicks dig scars. And blokes, blokes like scars, too. Do you like scars?”

“Well, I-”

“Bet Oscar likes scars. He’s all big, and broad, and brooding, Probably likes scars. Likes you. Likes you a lot. He stalked you, he’s a stalker. Not a bad stalker, though. He’s like a duck when you got bread, just you're the bread. Likes the bread. Listens to the bread. With his ears, he's got some great ears.'” Anthony frowned. “Do ducks have ears? Must do, how they hear other ducks. Am I duck?”

“Oh, good lord,” Ezra grumbled as Anthony’s mum laughed.

“Why’re you laughing?” Anthony asked in earnest.

It got a bit hazy after that, but the good kind of hazy. Anthony was wheeled into a room, and someone put a mask over his face and asked him to count backward.

~*~

He woke up slowly, the soft beeping of machines the only noise in an otherwise quiet room. Anthony blinked, feeling tender and disoriented, but nothing like before the drugs. He shifted his eyes around the room, not seeing much but he felt something tucked under his arm.

He looked down at the face of a stuffed duck.

And it all came rushing back.

"Oh nooo," he groaned, then heard the unmistakable giggle of Ezra near his head. He turned toward it, watching Ezra close a book before looking at him affectionately. "I made an absolute ass of myself didn't I?"

"It could have been far worse," Ezra said as he scooted closer. He took Anthony's hand, "it wasn't the first time you called me pretty. Though I have never known someone to complement another's ears before."

Anthony groaned again, turning his hand to hold on to Ezra's. "Don't tell him."

"I won't," Ezra assured. "Mostly because I would then have to explain how he's a duck and I'm bread."

Anthony laughed before it hurt, and he groaned, shifting his hand to his abdomen and squeezing the duck. He gave it a confused grin, fiddling with its beak. 

“Oh,” Ezra said, “While you were in surgery I got a bit restless. Thought I would get myself a book to read, and while I was in the gift shop I spotted that fella.”

“Thanks,” Anthony said. “Kinda like him.”

Ezra hummed. “And it’s a great reminder of this day,” he said. “You’ll have your scar to remind you you didn’t die, as you kept insisting. But also that you like to talk about ducks when you’re high.”

“I didn’t say anything too stupid, did I?” Anthony asked, remembering most of what he said.

Ezra blushed a little. “Not terribly stupid.”

“Thanks, angel,” Anthony smirked, and Ezra huffed, rolling his eyes and shaking his head.

“Well, if you’re going to call me something other than my name, at least it’s not bread.”

~A~

“How’s Anthony doing?” Oscar asked him as they sat on a bench outside the library, sharing a container of chips.

“He’s doing better. He’s home now, but still in bed, sleeps a lot.” Ezra pursed his lips. “I think he’s using it as an excuse for lazing about.”

Oscar chuckled before tossing a smaller chip in his mouth. “Man after my own heart,” he said as he chewed.

Ezra’s lips twitched but didn’t make it to a full-on grin. “I think he might like you, you know. He was… very interested in talking about you when he was waiting to have his appendix out. That and ducks.”

Oscar nodded, looking down at the chips he held for the both of them. “You know, I think Anthony’s alright, but he’s not who I’m interested in.”

Ezra nodded, a more genuine smile springing to his lips this time. “Yes, I do.” The smile dropped. “But you also know I’m not… not ready for all that.”

“No one said we have to do anything you’re not comfortable with.” Oscar reminded him. “You just want to go on dates, and maybe hold hands, I’m okay with that.”

“But for how long?” Ezra countered. “And when you leave for University, what then? You’re going to Scotland, Oscar.”

“I know.” He nodded. “But, you know, you’d be worth it.”

“I don’t know,” Ezra replied, shaking his head. “If I’m completely honest, I want to say yes. I do, but, I’m still sorting out this whole school and job thing.”

“And there’s Anthony,” Oscar noted.

Ezra blushed. “He doesn’t want me, not like that.”

“He called you angel,” Oscar countered, smirking. “Walked into the hospital room with you and he called you angel.”

“It’s a really ridiculous name, he was high when he thought of it, I’m sure it will disappear when the novelty wears off. Or the first time someone other than me points out that it might mean something.”

“Ezra,” Oscar said, and Ezra turned to him more full-on. Oscar studied him for a little while, before setting the chips down and then brushing his hands on a napkin the shifting on the bench.

Slowly, very slowly, he reached up and placed a hand on Ezra’s cheek.

Ezra gulped, his pulse racing as he both feared and anticipated what was coming.

Oscar leaned in very, very slowly, allowing Ezra more than ample time to get up and run away. And he wanted to, sort of, but also….

Well, he had no experience at all, did he? He’d never been kissed, not like this, and not even by a girl. He wasn’t ready for it, but that was probably because he had had an idea in his head about a year ago. An idea that involved Anthony and him perhaps doing this one night on a sleepover, or after school. But that had gone to pot, and while he knew he wasn’t ready to date anyone, not even Anthony, not when it involved everything that he heard it did, he _was_ curious about this.

Oscar paused just a breath away before placing his lips very lightly against Ezra’s.

He believed he had a brief understanding of what it was like for Anthony on morphine. Fleeting, anyway. It only lasted for about a second, that feeling, before it faded and the kiss continued.

Nice, it was nice. He managed to figure out how his lips needed to move, discovering pretty quick it wasn’t a pucker like he thought it might have been as a kid, but a soft push and pull. Oscar pulled back, and Ezra missed it, but he didn’t chase after him.

“That was my first kiss.” He confessed, his voice sounding a little frog-like.

“Hope it won’t be your last. At least not with me.” Oscar pulled his hand away. “I wanted to do that, at least once, before I left. If I overstepped….”

“No, no, you didn’t.” Ezra grinned. “But I’m still not ready to date you.”

Oscar laughed, “Well, that was a little bit of the goal, I’ll admit. I was hoping I could tempt you into it before I left.” He shrugged. “Maybe when I come back from school we can revisit that.”

“Perhaps we can.” Ezra agreed. They finished their chips and then headed back inside so Ezra could finish his shift, and Oscar could work on whatever it was he did.

A part of Ezra wanted to tell Anthony what happened. A bigger part didn’t want him to know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a week.  
> Hope all of you out there are staying safe and sane as much as you can.  
> Fun fact: The response "you're high, man" was a legitimate answer I got from my ER doctor when I was under morphine, and therefore high for the first time ever. 
> 
> Chapter title from "Vindicated" by Dashboard Confessional


	13. Take What I Took and Give it Back to You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Grab some popcorn, or tea, or wine, because this is a long, loaded chapter with what I believe will be a very satisfying ending.

**2019**

Anthony answered the door a little after eight while Ezra finished going over the rules with the boys. Anathema had babysat Warlock enough, of course, but for Adam this was new. He knew her, of course, but there had always been Marjorie, or his Uncle to look after him. In recent months before the accident, Gavin had even had a hand in looking after Adam from time to time.

Anthony, of course, had rolled his eyes. Fondly, mind, and Ezra adored it.

Staying over was both utter perfection and completely dangerous. It was good that they were getting out of the Crowley residence that evening if only to set things back to normal. He’d been far, far too tempted to ask Anthony if he could maybe stay with him for the night. He hugged Anthony and found he didn’t want to let go for anything. It had felt like home and safety, those lean, lithe arms around his neck an anchor he hadn’t realized he needed until it was there.

He almost said he loved him, that he still loved him and likely always had. Instead, he apologized for his waxing on over Eliza and everything else.

Perhaps in his own flat, or at least the one he was officially moving into that evening, things would be different. Maybe something about the ghost of Eliza lingering in the walls would prevent him from running his mouth in a way he didn’t want to.

That was, of course, depending on how the “getting to know you again” conversation went.

“Newt’s coming to help,” Anthony said as he led Anathema (in yesterday’s clothes) and Newt into the kitchen.

“My god, Ezra, put some clothes on.” Anathema teased as she went to help herself to some of the coffee Anthony had made.

“He is wearing clothes, Nathma,” Warlock said with a frown.

“Yeah.” Adam pipped up as Newt slid into a chair beside him.

“He is,” Anathema answered calmly. “But Ezra is usually very buttoned up.” At the deepening frown from both boys, she waved her hand about. “I mean, he has a shirt, and a waistcoat or a sweater vest. He has the bow tie and the trousers. He’s usually… dressier than he is now. I was teasing.” She explained before taking a sip of her coffee.

The boys accepted that as an explanation and carried on eating their breakfast.

“Anathema, dear girl,” Ezra said as he shifted to stand beside her. She smirked and took a sip of her coffee as he continued. “Much as I appreciate your bringing Newton along for the help… why?”

“Do you think you would survive a day packing up your flat with just AJ and Gabriel?”

Ezra frowned. “Why wouldn’t I?”

Anathema’s eyebrows hit her hairline, and she glanced over at the table where Anthony and Newton were now chatting about something that sounded a little concerning. Did Anthony say something about a catnip sandwich? Ezra sensed Anathema lean toward him, so he leaned toward her, watching the animated discussion Newton and Anthony were having and how it captured the attention of the boys.

“You have Gabriel who’s been pining after you for as long as I’ve known you,” She said quietly, just about a whisper. “And then you have AJ who clearly is arse over teakettle for you.”

“Oh please,” Ezra scoffed. “I will admit Gabriel’s a bit… expressive. But Anthony isn’t-”

“Arse. Over. Teakettle. And then it would be just you three in the flat for hours. If you’re not careful, a pissing match will come into play.”

“A what?” Ezra hissed.

“You know what I mean,” She smacked his arm. “Newt will be there to be a buffer. And, while not strong, can still be helpful.”

Well, he couldn’t argue that, could he?

His phone chimed, and he took it out of his pocket.

_Gabriel: Got the truck. Some boxes but not enough._

“Oh drat,” Ezra said with a sigh.

“What’s wrong, angel?” Anthony asked.

Anathema made an odd little chirp noise that Ezra frowned at before shaking his head and answering Anthony. “Gabriel has the truck and is probably on the way. He says there aren’t likely to be enough boxes, though.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Anthony waved him off as he stood up. “Got some boxes from the shop in my trunk.”

“Oh, really?” Ezra asked, a heady rush of affection shooting through him at the thought that Anthony had been that prepared.

“’ Course,” He replied. “But if Gabe’s on the way to your old place, we should get going. Ah, Newt, you might wanna follow in Dick Turpin, got the seats in the back of the Bentley.”

Newt, who hardly ever convinced anyone to call his car by its given name, looked as though he’d won the lottery and Anathema’s hand all in one go. He stood, walking almost zombie-like to the door, with the most ridiculous grin Ezra had ever seen.

“Boys, listen to Auntie Anathema,” Anthony warned. “We’re going to come for you on the way to Ezra and Adam’s flat, you will stay in Adam’s room when we get there, and out of the way, is that understood?”

“Yes Dad,” Warlock said as Adam said, “of course, Anthony.”

“Good,” Anthony said as he went to Anathema a moment. “Thank you for watching them both,” He said as he kissed her cheek. She kissed his back, and grinned but didn’t say anything, merely humming in response.

“Thank you,” Ezra said, kissing her other cheek, and having her return it as well before he and Anthony said bye to the boys and left.

~*~

“The tartan!” Anthony exclaimed as they stepped into the flat.

Ezra glanced around with a frown, not sure what the big deal was. There was the family tartan, of course, in the form of the throw and a couple of pillows on the sofa he’d had made, or his mum passed down. He’s had a cheap ottoman reupholstered with it as well, just to tie everything together. The sofa was tan, with very, very light pin strips that weren’t quite a match to that in the family one.

A glance at the small, two-seat table reminded him that there was a single, tartan placemat that he put his salt and pepper pots, a small thing of napkins, occasionally a vase of flowers when the mood struck him.

Flowers he’d unknowingly bought from the man currently gaping at the tartan strewn about.

“It’s stylish.” Ezra pouted, pushing up the sleeves of his shirt and moving further into the room.

Anthony snickered, following him as far as the sofa with the boxes he’d set aside from the shop to pack things in.

Ezra sighed affectionately, then felt eyes on him. He glanced over at the entryway where Gabriel had been observing them for a moment with slightly narrowed eyes before coming into the room a bit more himself.

“What’s not coming, sunshine?” He asked, glancing around, stepping aside for Newton to come in as well.

Ezra sighed again, this time more wearily than anything. “The sofa will not come. Eliza’s was always far more comfortable, and mine was second hand to start with.” He rubbed at his face. “The table will not, I have no need for it as there’s one there that sits more people.”

“The bookshelves?” Gabriel asked.

Anthony let out a loud, “ha!” Ezra couldn’t help but smile at that.

“What’s funny?” Gabriel asked as Ezra turned to face the men.

Anthony turned and put his hands on his hips as he faced Gabriel. “Are the bookshelves going?”

Gabriel mimicked the stance. “It’s a legitimate question.”

“Regarding Ezra?” Anthony asked, then gestured to the shelves around the room. Which, admittedly, were full.

“The shelves are going,” Ezra said, ending further discussion between the men. “As are the books. My bed, because I want my bed and not my sister’s. My dresser, other furniture, I will assess as we get there. But for now, let’s deal with the books.”

The four of them began to attack the bookshelves, arguably the thing that required the most work and started placing books in the boxes. For the most part, they were all quiet, only the odd question to Ezra about sorting or placing.

“You’ve had this one for ages,” Anthony commented, thumbing through a very worn copy of _Dorian Grey_ he’d plucked off the shelf. “You were reading this when we met, I think.”

“Perhaps I was,” Ezra replied, glancing at it. “I read so much back then; I genuinely don’t remember.”

“I don’t ever remember you without a book in school,” Gabriel commented.

“Not much has changed, then.” Newton pipped up with a nervous grin.

Gabriel turned, looking him up and down as if assessing him.

“Quite right, dear boy,” Ezra replied, then looked at the boxes they’d already filled with a groan. “It’s likely I’m going to have to sell a few of them off, loathed as I am to consider it. There was barely any room for half of this when I lived there before, and I left a decent part of my collection there.”

“What about the shop below? Will they buy some of these off of you?” Gabriel asked, looking over a few of the paperbacks Ezra kept.

“They might.” Ezra considered. “Though I’m not sure, though.”

“Why don’t you just store them?” Anthony asked, closing one of the full boxes.

“I don’t really have a place to store them.” He replied, handing a few to Newton to finish off his box before he cleared the last of one of the shelves, handing those ones to Gabriel.

“Could store them with me,” Anthony offered. “I’ve got space.”

“Where?” Ezra asked, “In your office with that atrocious desk and chair?”

Anthony threw his head back and cackled a little, “Oh, you don’t like them? My king chair gilded desk?”

“Oh, is that what you call them?” Ezra smirked. “It’s quite the change from your normal decor choices, I must say.”

“Anathema encouraged him,” Newton said, smiling as he said her name. “She told me they saw it an estate sale and ribbed him until he bought it.”

“It had snakes; I like snakes.” Anthony defended, though it was clear he was still very amused. “And it was one of those things that was just so ugly, so ridiculous I just had to have it.”

“Oh, to have the sort of money that one could buy an atrocious piece of furniture simply because it is atrocious.” Ezra teased.

Anthony made a bunch of noises before gesturing to the sofa, which only had Ezra giggling.

“What’s next after this, sunshine?” Gabriel cut through it, the last of the books being finished by Newton.

Ezra stood up and looked around. He’d never really gotten around to putting anything up on his walls, his bookshelves being the biggest user of wall space. His knickknacks were still boxed up, kept in his bedroom for him to look at if he wished to, but nothing out on display.

“I don’t have a lot of dishes,” He commented. “Newton, do you need anything? I only have a mug or two I’m fond of that I’ll be taking with me, but you can have anything else in the kitchen for your flat.”

“Thanks,” Newton said. “Not sure what I’ll need, but I’ll have a look.”

Ezra went with him to the kitchen and retrieved the two mugs he spoke of, and to assess what else would need to be taken with him, if anything. He didn’t need his toaster or kettle; he wasn’t overly attached to anything aside from those two mugs he’d spoken of which he’d gone to the cupboard to retrieve.

“World’s second-best teacher?” Anthony said from over his shoulder as Ezra opened a nearby drawer for a tea towel to wrap it in.

“A gift from mum when I first started teaching.”

“Ah!” Anthony said in understand as he handed Newton an empty box to fill.

Ezra wrapped the first mug in the towel, then reached for the second.

Anthony’s hand wrapped around his as he brought it out, halting him.

“You kept it.” He said in very quiet disbelief as Ezra looked at the white mug with angel wings for a handle.

“Why wouldn’t I have?” He asked as Anthony pulled his hand away, allowing him to wrap that mug as well.

“I dunno. Smash it in a fit after… what happened.” Anthony shrugged, glancing around the kitchen before his eyes landed on the fridge. “You’re going to want to clean that out. I can help.”

“Anthony,” Ezra said, catching his shoulder, forcing him to stop. “I would have never broken it because we were angry with one another.”

He merely nodded, then went for the fridge to begin emptying it.

“Sunshine, can you help me get the cases downstairs?” Gabriel asked, gesturing to the now-empty bookcases.

“Right, yes, let’s,” Ezra said, setting the mug beside the other on the counter and heading back to the living room to help Gabriel.

He was, admittedly, not quite as strong as he had been in his youth, but Ezra had no issue lifting the bottom of the bookcase and help Gabriel lug it downstairs to the truck waiting on the curb.

“I can understand why you wouldn’t ask Newton, but I do believe Anthony is much stronger than he appears,” Ezra said as he followed Gabriel up the ramp and into the back of the truck.

“I don’t want Crowley to help,” Gabriel replied, giving Ezra a firm pat on the back. “Besides, this allows me to talk to you.”

“Oh?” Ezra asked, not waiting for Gabriel to continue before heading back down the ramp and up into the flat in order to get the next case. “What did you want to talk about?” He asked as they reentered.

“Ah,” Gabriel said as they moved for the next piece to move. They hoisted it, brought it downstairs, and only once they settled it into the truck did Gabriel continue. “What are you doing after this?”

“Oh, well, Anthony and I-”

“He’s monopolizing all of your time lately,” Gabriel said with a suspicious grin. “Yesterday, today, Thursday. You see him every day on the way to work, and after. And yet, you won’t make time for me during the week.”

Ezra frowned. “I don’t see how-”

“You said you didn’t want to deviate Adam from his routine.”

“Well, I didn’t-”

“And yet for Crowley-”

“Stop.” Ezra cut in sharply. “Gabriel, I appreciate what you have done to help in this transition, and I am aware of what I said about Adam’s routine. I did not change his routine _for_ Anthony, I needed help and that was the solution that seemed most appealing.”

“So, you would rather spend the night on his sofa, then have me wait for Adam in your flat, is that it?” Gabriel asked, waving his arms about.

“No, it’s not,” Ezra replied calmly. “Put yourself in my shoes a moment, Gabriel, and think. Anthony would have already had to get Lock, he already picks us up in the mornings, and the boys would have one another to play with. Adam likes you, of course, but you have never had to spend any time with him just the two of you, and you don’t have a lot of experience with children.”

Gabriel looked deflated at that, and Ezra actually felt sort of bad.

“Let’s get the next shelf down, shall we?” Ezra asked in a chipper voice, gesturing up to his former flat.

“Right, yeah.” Gabriel nodded, walking past Ezra to head up.

They got into the living room, moving around to get the last bookcase.

“We should all get drinks after we get Ezra settled!” Gabriel suddenly announced with a smile Ezra could tell was fake. “The guys, you know?”

“Umm,” Newton stuttered. “I’m not sure Anathema would want to watch the boys that long.”

“We’ll just have them at Ezra’s, then.” Gabriel offered, not looking at Ezra as he did. “That way the boys don’t have to leave. Sorta like we did last night.”

“That’s a lot of people in a very small flat,” Ezra said as firmly as he could. Then, stepping up to Gabriel, whispered. “I promise, we’ll have a night just you and I at some point like I said we would before. But please, let this go.”

Gabriel held his eye for a moment, not seeming to want to back down before he sighed and nodded.

“You’re right. Of course.” He agreed before moving to tip the bookcase, allowing Ezra to grab the end and lift it up, and the two carried it out to the truck. This time, Gabriel didn’t say anything when they got down to the truck and went back in without a word.

~*~

Twelve hours later, Ezra collapsed on the sofa. Anthony did as well, a long groan of relief in doing so loud in an otherwise quiet room. The boys were put to bed an hour ago, just after eight. Before that, Gabriel finally took off, having decided to stick around for pizza despite repeatedly declaring needing to add an extra mile per slice to his routine in the morning to make up for it. With a laugh, of course, though Ezra wasn’t sure he was joking.

After the boys were tucked into Adam’s room, Warlock on the air mattress, and the two finding the new location that much more exciting, Anthony and Ezra secured the additional bookcases to the wall before filling them. They’d switched out Ezra’s bed well before Gabriel left, what turned out to be the only furniture aside from the bookcases he’d taken from his former flat. The rest he’d allowed Newton to take or put it on the curb.

Everything else could wait, and Ezra wanted the wine Anthony had brought from his house after they swung by to relieve Anathema and pick up the boys.

“I’m not sure if we both have a slight drinking problem, or if it’s just you and you’re enabling me,” Ezra commented as he reached for the glass he’d poured before sitting down so he could let it breathe.

Anthony reached for his as well. “Since you’re the one who introduced me to a good wine, I think if anyone’s to blame, it’s you.”

Ezra pursed his lips, “I suppose you’re right.” He agreed, taking a sip.

They were quiet for a while, just sipping their wine and allowing a slight unease to fester between them. Ezra was sure Anthony had to have known why it was there. It had only been a couple of nights ago that their plans for this evening manifested.

Ezra wanted to know everything about Anthony from their missing time. He wanted to have it be that, should Gabriel say he doesn’t know him again, he could say for certain that he did. The problem was, he didn’t know where to start. Going for “where did Warlock come from” seemed abrupt and a bit too personal for the first question. Aside from him and the Garden, which he knew enough about, for now, he didn’t know the major points in Anthony’s life.

“What was one thing you wished I was around for?” He asked, which he regretted because he knew the answer to that for him in regards to Anthony, and it wasn’t the best of moments.

“Warlock’s birth,” Anthony replied with a grin. “I was so proud. Holding this little, squirming demon in my arms, I was so proud. Wanted to call you, tell you all about him even though I’d only just met him myself.” Anthony took a sip of his wine. “You?”

“Mum’s death,” Ezra confessed. “I made some poor decisions in the time just after, decisions I knew you would have kept me from making had you been around. And I remembered what it was like to have you there for Dad’s. I missed your hand in mine during her service. I missed you more than I had any other years.”

“Sorry I wasn’t,” Anthony replied, reaching for Ezra and finding purchase on his shoulder. Ezra held his hand there a moment.

“So am I.” He said, and then they withdrew.

“Worst boyfriend in that time,” Anthony asked with a smirk.

Ezra huffed. “I had only dated one man. David, I mentioned him before. I had been on a few dates, of course, but none that I would say lasted long enough to be considered ‘dating.’ Why, do you have one? A partner?”

“There was one guy who would never eat when we went to a restaurant. This was pre-Warlock, not long after you and I, well….”

“Of course,” Ezra nodded, understanding the not wanting to talk about it.

“Right, so, Raven? Never. Ate. But he _loved_ going to fancy restaurants where they have about a forkful of food on the plate and charge you an exorbitant amount. He loved how hungry people looked, and turns out he liked me only for my physique.” Anthony said as he gestured at his sprawled-out form.

“I can see why,” Ezra said without thinking then promptly took a drink to hide the blush he knew was already seen. “David was quite plain, nothing overly special about him, nothing particularly annoying or odd, either. I met him in a pub one day after class.”

“Class?” Anthony asked with a frown.

“I was on my way to earning a Doctorate,” Ezra said proudly. “And one day, I may go back and finish it. I had about a year left when I left.”

“To live with Liza?”

“Well, she was more important, wasn’t she? And Adam, they’re family, and mum was not going to be able to lend a hand. But yes, I met David when I was working on my Doctorate. He was a comfortable sort. Boring, what I thought I should have since I planned to live a relatively boring life myself. But when we broke up, I didn’t ache at all, and I think that says a lot.”

“Mmmm,” Anthony agreed.

“What was the most exciting thing you’ve done?” Ezra asked, taking a drink.

Anthony’s face twisted into a truly wicked grin. “Made it so James wasn’t able to take a pound from me.” He replied with glee.

“James, your…. What do you mean?” Ezra asked curiously.

“Well, Warlock was born, I have my son, proof I’ve done what he asked, sort’ve, and he released my full trust fund. Signed the account over to me, no more withdrawal restrictions, but he could still access it if he wanted to. And I knew he thought I was stupid, or probably didn’t count on me thinking too hard on it. So, no limits, right? I withdrew everything, down to the last penny, and put it into a separate bank account at a different bank where he couldn’t touch it. It was about four months later, I’d just started dating again, and had ‘sworn off’ women, so a bloke. James found out and tried to set me right. But, uh-oh, no money to take away.”

“What _did_ he end up doing?” Ezra asked, body tight as he waited for the answer.

“Well, nothing he could do. Money was always the thing. He couldn’t throw me out, I didn’t live with him. Even if I did, mum wouldn’t have let it happen. Couldn’t sue me for it, it was my money and you can’t go into a court and say to a judge ‘he’s gay, I want my money back’, ‘cause then he gets charged with hate crimes.”

“Oh, poor man.” Ezra deadpanned, taking a drink in time with Anthony. They both drained their glasses, and with the bottle conveniently left on the coffee table, Anthony grabbed it and topped them both up. “I traveled,” Ezra said. “Mum had been saving for a rainy day for so long, and then she was diagnosed with cancer, stage three at the time. One may not think traveling with their mum a good time, but she had wanted to before the end. Not far, of course. Italy, France, she wanted to do Greece and Spain as well, but she found she was too weak to continue. But she encouraged us to keep going.”

“Eliza?” Anthony asked.

Ezra hummed a confirmation. “We didn’t spend as long as we had wanted in either place, we wanted to be back for mum. But we got to tell her stories, and that helped her through the treatments. And when Eliza got pregnant a few months after our return, that made her fight a little longer, to see her grandchild.” He grinned sadly then shook his head. “That, however, is not exciting, and not helpful.” He took a drink. “I believe it’s your turn.”

“Alright, name one stupid thing, one really, horrendous thing that makes you just… cringe.”

“Is that really what you want to know about?” Ezra asked him as he cringed over his wine, already knowing what he was going to say.

“You want me to go first? Because I will, I totally will. Mind, my stupid thing has a happy ending, but it was still ridiculous.” Anthony said, gesturing about and miraculously not spilling a drop. Ezra sighed and gestured for him to proceed. Anthony took a fortifying drink before saying, “I had an affair with the wife of an American diplomat.”

Ezra’s jaw dropped. “You did not!”

“I did.” Anthony nodded, and if Ezra didn’t know better, he would almost think he was proud. “No one knows, it’s quite hush-hush. And really, terribly cliché, too, since I was the bloody gardener.”

“The Gardner,” Ezra said, trying to wrap his mind around it.

“Yeah, well, James was still only letting the trust fund trickle out, I needed a decent boost before I officially bought what would be The Garden in London. Say the advertisement in the paper, applied, got it in one.” Here he paused, taking a drink, looking off to the side as if he were thinking on it. “I’d been working at the estate for months. Saw the kid around from time to time, but she… I saw her every day. We were the same age; we had a few things in common. We’d talk, have a drink together, then the next thing I know….”

“Quite the whirlwind romance,” Ezra said dryly.

“It wasn’t ever like that, for either of us. She was lonely, stuck over here with her kid while her husband was gallivanting about. I was… well, I was there, I guess. Lonely, too. Turned out alright in the end, though.”

“How on Earth did that turn out alright?” Ezra asked, disbelieving.

“Gave me Warlock.” Anthony shrugged, and Ezra felt his whole body start to go limp from shock. “She, uh… she didn’t figure out she was pregnant for a few months, and she told me just before my contract was up. Obviously, I didn’t renew it. She told me it was too late for her to… _do_ anything about it, so she was going to give it up and I….” He met Ezra’s eye. “I did a lot of stupid things. Sleeping with her was the worst, and I stopped long before I would have left the estate. But I knew when she said she was going to give up the baby that I wanted it. I wanted to be a dad, so I told her to just give him to me. I found myself with a fairly decent parting bonus, which I’m sure Thad, the diplomat, would never have approved of. She kept me up to date with everything, and called when the time came.”

“What about her husband?”

“Probably wasn’t around in those last months,” Anthony replied. “He was around very little. Which was one of the reasons she strayed. Me, I just wasn’t thinking.”

Ezra shook his head, trying to wrap his mind around it. “Does she… does she keep in contact, or?”

“She disappeared as soon as she was able to leave the delivery room. I think she went back to the states. She did ask if she could name our boy, though. Don’t ask where she got Warlock from, guess she didn’t really get a choice with the first so she went a bit wild. So, yeah, that was my one, really stupid thing since… yeah.”

“I see,” Ezra said, taking a hearty gulp of wine. “I’m not sure mine would come close to being on equal to that amount of idiocy.”

“Oi!” Anthony frowned.

“A married woman, Anthony.”

“I said I wasn’t proud.” He scowled.

“No, I suppose you didn’t. What made you…?”

“Alcohol. Quite extraordinary amounts of alcohol. At least the first time or two. The last was… I don’t know. Something dirty and desperate. Lonely. It was the last for both of us. We made sure we were never alone after that.”

Ezra let that sink in and found he couldn’t really be disappointed in Anthony. He had no right to be on a high horse, so he let go of his disapproval with a sigh. “I suppose it couldn’t have been too terrible of thing if it brought Warlock to the world. He’s a lovely boy, even if his name leaves something to be desired.”

“How long have you been holding that commentary back?” Anthony smirked.

“Since we met, but seeing as how I thought maybe _you_ named him, I wasn’t about to say a thing.”

“Why, thank you, angel.” Anthony snarked.

“You’re welcome, dear,” Ezra smirked, taking a sip of wine.

After a moment of quiet, Anthony said, “His middle name is Ezra.”

Ezra met Anthony’s gaze with wide eyes, feeling his jaw go slack.

Anthony was blushing, a little smile on his face. “She gave him his first name, but never gave him a middle so he became Warlock Ezra Crowley. I wasn’t sure I would ever see you again, and… and part of the reason it ended with Harriet was because I could only imagine how utterly disappointed in me you would have been. You were my conscience even when you hadn’t been in my life for years.”

“I…,” Ezra shook his head, eyes blinking rapidly. “I’m actually very honored that you would give Warlock my name. And I… I think you should know, well, I may have been the angel on your shoulder during our separation, but I believe you were the devil on mine.”

“Oh? How so?” Anthony asked the mood lightening.

“Well, I probably kissed a few men in my travels that I probably wouldn’t have if I hadn’t been wondering what you would do in my shoes. Or making a purchase I really shouldn’t for the pleasure of it.”

“Is that your stupid thing? Kissing men in strange countries you’d never see again?” Anthony asked with a twitch of his eyebrows.

“Heavens, no,” Ezra said, bracing himself. “My incredibly stupid thing was doing something much more than kissing with someone who was definitely not a stranger.”

“Oh?” Anthony asked, intrigued.

“Yes. I’m afraid it was sleeping with Gabriel.”

Anthony had about the same reaction Ezra had to the affair, which in his opinion wasn’t a fair comparison. Gabriel wasn’t -nor had he ever been- married, and his one-off fling certainly wouldn’t have caused a scandal except perhaps with some very conservative folk who refused to be open-minded.

“You slept with _Gabriel_? When!?” Anthony nearly shouted, leaning as far forward as he could without falling into Ezra’s lap and still managing not to spill his wine.

Ezra sighed. “It was just after mum died. It wasn’t unexpected, as you probably guessed, but it still was a blow. Gabriel came over, and I was raw and wanted to feel something that wasn’t grief, so we…. Look, I’m not proud.” He floundered.

Anthony’s jaw was tight, mouth still open in surprise, but he also seemed a bit amused. He leaned back, a single, dry chuckle coming out as his back hit the chair. “Wow,” He said, laughing a little more. “Gabe must have been….”

“I think that was the worst part,” Ezra said miserably. “I knew, I _knew_ he had a bit of an infatuation for me, though lord knows why. I took advantage of him, and it’s been one of my biggest regrets. He was very good about it, of course. I told him it was just a-a fling, I suppose. A one-time thing. And while it was quite lovely, I wasn’t ready for anything, and that, well, that I may never want to be more than friends with him.”

“What did he say?”

“Well, he asked if I would consider something he called ‘friends with benefits’, but I declined.”

“Even though it was lovely?” Anthony asked with a bit of snark.

Ezra glared. “Just because the sex was enjoyable doesn’t mean I wanted to make it a regular thing.” He took a sip of his wine. “Hell, if I wanted to make a habit out of ruining perfectly good friendships with one-night stands-” And he stopped because if he continued on, one more secret would get out.

Anthony seemed to have known it though.

“It hasn’t stopped him from asking at least once every couple of months,” Ezra added on, taking a drink and finishing off his glass.

Anthony’s brows drew together. “When did your mum die again?”

Ezra sighed, filling up his glass again before looking at Anthony, “Four years ago.”

“So… so he’s been asking every couple months for four years.”

“Afraid so.” Ezra lamented, deciding then to fill up Anthony’s glass and emptying the bottle.

“And you never changed your mind?” Anthony asked, a new tone to his voice that (if Ezra was being optimistic) might have been as hopeful as it was desperate.

“No.” Ezra shook his head. “It really was an incredibly stupid mistake on my part. I’d taken advantage of one of my good friends.”

“But you thought he was attractive when we met him.” Anthony leaned forward a bit again.

It was Ezra’s turn to frown. “He is attractive.” He stated. “But he never captured my interest in that way. He never… he never made my heart feel like….”

“Like it was doing somersaults in your chest.” Anthony smiled.

“Precisely.” Ezra nodded, a pleased grin growing on his lips.

~C~

So, Ezra wasn’t infallible, which was good. It hadn’t occurred to Crowley until he was partway through telling him about Harriet that he wondered if Ezra would be able to overlook that one, horrendous mistake. He had wondered, if once he heard it, Ezra would judge him severely. For a while, it seemed he would, and Crowley had prepared himself for a tongue lashing.

But it never came, and now he understood why.

Though the idea that Ezra had slept with Gabriel had felt like a stab to the heart, the fact that it went literally nowhere after that gave Crowley a spark of hope. That maybe that fleeting thought the night before of Ezra possibly thinking of him as more than a friend even after all these years could be a reality.

“Do you….” Crowley began before nerves got the better of him. He took a drink, the gulp loud in his ears as he set the wine glass down on the coffee table. “Do you ever think about… _that_ night?”

Alarm bells were going off in his mind, screaming to abort, to make it seem that he was talking about any other night. They hadn’t even really discussed it after it happened, and it was only a month after that everything blew up in their faces, so he really shouldn’t mention it. But he had to. He had to because Ezra slept with Gabriel once and it never became anything more, and so now that they were older, more mature, he _had_ to know.

Ezra took a deep breath in through his nose, then brought his wine glass to his lips. If he sipped or swallowed, it was inaudible to Crowley at the moment, and he watched Ezra set his glass beside Crowley’s. This was going to be a serious conversation, then. He didn’t know what to make of that.

“How could I not?” Ezra asked quietly, a look in his eye that Crowley couldn’t peg down. Sad? Wistful? Ezra’s eyes were full of emotion, all jumbled together, and his lips were trembling more upward than down.

“Well, we were drunk, wasn’t sure you remembered,” Crowley shrugged, trying to play at nonchalance.

“I remember every detail, at least where it was important,” Ezra replied softly. Then his lips definitely quirked upward. “Terrible beer and salt from crisps, that’s what you tasted like.”

“Wine.” Crowley countered. “You always drank wine, and it had already tinted your lips. I’d been staring at them all night.”

Ezra hummed, “Then there was Eliza, with the _ridiculous_ dare.”

“Was it really that ridiculous?”

“Well, when she posed it, I thought it was. For one, I had never thought you’d want to kiss me. We’d been friends for ten years, then, and not once had you ever seemed to show an interest in me in that way.”

“I had though,” Crowley laughed. “Bloody hell, I had it for you bad. Time and time again. Didn’t matter who I was with or who you were with.” He blushed hard, his neck prickling with sweat as he realized he’d slipped and confessed something he hadn’t meant to.

“Really?” Ezra asked, his tone reminiscent of his fourteen-year-old self in disbelief that someone wanted to spend time with him. That someone wanted him.

“Really.” Crowley nodded.

Ezra looked down at his lap, fiddling with his fingers, and Crowley’s heart started to slowly plummet to his feet.

Oh, this was bad, this was really, really bad. He should have just kept his mouth shut. Again. He reached for his wine and took another long drink before setting the glass back down a bit too hard, the noise jarring in the quiet.

“I was terrified of what would happen after,” Ezra said quietly. “I kissed you because I was given an excuse to. Because I wanted to, my inhibitions were lowered, and I had a ready-made reason. But I feared I’d ruined everything afterward. It’s why I ran to the kitchen after. I didn’t want to see your face.”

“Must have been pretty awful that I followed you after,” Crowley’s voice crackled.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Ezra said, and Crowley risked a look at him. He was staring at Crowley’s lips, and if he didn’t know any better, Crowley would say that was yearning on his friend’s face. “The end result was pretty spectacular.”

“Mm,” Crowley hummed, smirking. “Snogging you senseless against the counter was a brilliant idea on my part.”

“Before someone walked in,” Ezra grumbled. “I could never recall who it was, I don’t think they were there long enough to do anything but break the moment.”

“Why didn’t we just…?”

“Continue? I don’t know, my dear. I was still terrified, and I knew you were drunk, or at least well on your way to being so. I didn’t want to push, and then you walked away as if nothing happened.”

Crowley waited until Ezra met his eye before he allowed all his stupid, lovesick feelings to play out on his face. “I was scared I crossed a line, and you didn’t know how to politely turn me down.”

Ezra chuckled without humor, shaking his head. “So, you mean to tell me we never spoke of it, because we both thought the other-”

“Yeah,” Crowley said, and grinned as Ezra giggled incredulously.

And like that night ten years ago, he was beautiful. Wine stained lips, and tired eyes from the day they had. His hair a bit disheveled, and his clothes a bit rumpled, he was a vision.

Acting on impulse had always had mixed results for Crowley. It brought a lot of good and bad, so odds were it could go either way. With that in mind, he acted on the desire to lean across the couch and cup Ezra’s cheek, he forged on with his focus on that now silent mouth and allowed his eyes to close as he pressed his lips to Ezra’s.

He was rewarded with a lovely, deep-throated moan, and a hand in his hair.

Crowley smiled, not pulling away except for what the gentle pull and push of the kiss required. And Ezra, well, he was smiling, too, his other hand going to Crowley’s waist and pulling him nearer. To which Crowley nodded, shifting his body as required to not break the kiss while he was brought ever closer. He snaked his other arm around Ezra, absently amused that they coordinated in such a way that there were no arms bumping arms in this arrangement.

It was his height baring down on Ezra that began to carry them down to the sofa that Ezra began to giggle. That broke the kiss, and when Crowley’s lips left his, Ezra was giddily laughing. His eyes were dark but also twinkling merrily, and Crowley didn’t know what to make of it.

“You’re hurting my ego, here, angel,” Anthony said, the smile on his lips contrary to the hurt in his voice.

“Oh, it’s not you, dear. Just… I thought about doing this for a very long time, snogging you on the couch. Never did I think it would be when we were in our thirties, and I think I’m both thrilled to bits and highly amused that we’re acting like we’re twenty years younger.”

“You know me, never was one for acting my age.” Crowley grinned with teeth.

Ezra sighed, and the look on his face had Crowley’s chest ache in the very best way. Ezra brushed Crowley’s hair back, caressing his cheek with his thumb.

“I do know you, my dear. Even with all the missing time, I think I know you as well as I know myself.”

Crowley bent his head, pressing his forehead to Ezra’s, his eyes falling shut as he allowed himself to be softly held, and to softly hold in return.

“Anthony,” Ezra said quietly. “I don’t… I don’t want to lose you again.”

“You won’t.” He swore, shaking his head against Ezra’s. “It’s different now. I know, now, that you were just trying to look out for me. I get it, but that doesn’t matter anymore. You won’t lose me.”

“Good.” He said quietly, punctuating it with a quick kiss to Crowley’s lips that he realized he could get very used to.

One peck turned into another, and then more, and while it didn’t evolve into a full-on snog, the kisses continued for quite a while longer than was intended.

With one final peck, Crowley backed off, wanting to give them both space to catch their breath, perhaps have a drink.

“Am I a better kisser than Gabe?” He asked on a whim, teasing Ezra with a smirk as he reached for his wine glass.

All the joy left Ezra’s face in a split second, replaced with dread. “Oh,” He said on a groan, closing his eyes and dragging a hand down his face. “I’m supposed to have a drink with him soon. Oh, lord, this is going to be terribly, horribly awkward. Exceedingly so.”

Crowley laughed. “Oh, so you’re kissing me after making a date with Gabe?”

Ezra scowled. “Oh, do be quiet. And it wasn’t a date, it was _never_ a date.” He said emphatically before reaching for his glass and taking a drink. “Though, I suppose he probably thought it might be. You know he told me just last week he wasn’t going to keep waiting for me? I never once asked him to, but now….”

“Now?” Crowley asked, perhaps with a bit too much excitement.

Ezra glowered at him. “It’s probably for the best that I always thought you were lovely. Otherwise, you wouldn’t get away with half of the cheek you do.”

“Oh, cheek?”

“Yes, your cheek. Because you know very well what this is likely going to do to my friendship with Gabriel.”

“Yes,” Crowley said with a delighted chuckle. “I very much do.”

“I don’t like you,” Ezra said with a purse of his lips.

“You do,” Crowley countered, leaning in toward him while carefully holding his wine glass out of the way.

Ezra looked at him with put-upon annoyance, but a smirk was lingering too close to the surface for the facade to stick. “No,” He said. “I very much more than like you.”

“I very much more than like you, too,” Crowley said, closing in for a quick kiss.

“This isn’t changing the sleeping arrangements,” Ezra said firmly.

“I didn’t expect it would.” Crowley agreed. “That’s something that needs to happen slowly, let the boys get used to the idea first. Adam’s already had enough change in his life. Does he… does he know you’re…?”

Ezra frowned. “You know, I don’t believe he does. I have dated since he was born, of course, but it never led to a partner, as you know. I think the closest thing to that might have _been_ Gabriel, but there has never been a romantic connection. Does Warlock?”

Crowley nodded, “Pretty much only dated blokes since he was born, and he’s met a few of them, knew them as Dad’s boyfriends.” Then after a thought. “Are _we_ dating?”

Ezra snorted. “Anthony, dear, what would be the point? Dating really is just a way to get to know one another. Aside from the fundamental changes we’ve already discussed, is there something about you I don’t know about yet?”

“A few tattoos you haven’t seen.” He shrugged. “One or two partners that lasted a few months but nothing serious. You?”

“No.” Ezra shook his head. He took Crowley’s free hand in his. “I want to hold off giving this a name, for now.”

“I can wait.” Crowley replied, giving Ezra’s hand a squeeze, “Waited this long, can wait a bit longer.” Ezra nodded. “And I do want to date you. As in the ‘take you out, just you and me’ kind of date. Yes, we know each other, but not… not like this. And I want to, and we will, but I still want to have dates.”

Ezra smiled. “Alright, dear.”

They sat together for a time, quietly sipping their wine and glowing with unsuppressed glee.

“Just so you know,” Ezra said in an overly casual way. “Just because I would like to hold off giving what this is a name doesn’t mean I’m opposed to-”

Crowley cut him off by ripping the near-empty wine glass out of his grasp, setting both of theirs on the table. He then launched himself at Ezra, smothering the blonde’s giggles with kisses until they went quiet, and continued this method of silencing until they were both too tired to continue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This may have to hold you over until the end of the week, seeing how things play out. We're back to the past then.  
> I'm glad so many people enjoyed high Anthony. 
> 
> Chapter title from "All this time" by OneRepublic


	14. Wait Too Long, He will Be Gone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're skipping through a couple years pretty quick in this one.

**2002**

“Edinburgh seems a bit far.” Anthony frowned, watching Ezra from where he was sprawled on Ezra’s bed.

His mum had allowed him to go to the Fells, thank someone, and get him out of the blasted house for a bit. His incision still hurt, but he refused to let on even a little. Fear, of course, that Ezra would say something and call her, get her to come to get him.

So, he stretched out, rested, and basked in being in Ezra’s room and not his own, where everything felt warmer, more loved.

“Yes,” Ezra said, moving slightly from side to side in his desk chair, something he rarely did, which is what tipped Anthony off that something was different. “But he wanted to study a specific subject, and Edinburgh was the best place for it.”

Anthony frowned. “Is something wrong, angel?” He asked, and grinned when Ezra’s lips twitched up at the nickname.

“No, no not wrong. Just,” Ezra looked at the door, open just a crack, enough for Eliza not to get pissy about Ezra having boys in his room with the door closed when she wasn’t allowed to. He seemed to debate something for a moment and then shook his head. “Oscar… Oscar kissed me.”

“He what?” Anthony asked calmly despite how his heart lurched. He probably would have shot upward if it wouldn’t have hurt like a bitch.

“Just the other day,” Ezra said, probably understanding just how rhetoric Anthony’s question was. “He was hoping, or at least he said, that it was in hopes to sway me into dating him.”

Anthony waited a second before speaking up. “And… did it work?”

“Oh, good heavens, no,” Ezra replied instantly, making Anthony smile for a multitude of reasons. “I… well it’s not that I don’t see the appeal. I’m a romantic at heart, so of course, I see the appeal of having someone to-to hold me, and talk with me, and know I can rely on them. But dating? Look at you and Fredrick, and how quickly the two of you got wrapped up in all… that. And Eliza is no better, I _know_ she isn’t as innocent as she would like everyone to believe.”

“Do you… not want that?” Anthony asked, slowly inching slowly down to the edge of the bed so he could be closer to Ezra.

“I think I do,” Ezra replied thoughtfully. “But not yet. And I know, I am aware, I could date someone without there needing to be… more, so long as they were a gentleman. But I would rather forgo the whole thing for now than worry about it at all.”

Anthony took Ezra’s hand in his, holding it. “Any bloke, or… lady?”

Ezra tilted his head, giving Anthony a look that so blatantly said “really, now” that Anthony laughed until it hurt.

“Alright, fine, just any bloke would be… _lucky_ to have you. And I can’t imagine anyone not wanting to wait for you to catch up just to-to-to have the absolute privilege of calling you ‘theirs’.”

“That’s kind of you,” Ezra smiled. “But I really think I would rather wait. Only, a small part of me wonders if I just let something quite wonderful slip away.”

Anthony swallowed his pride, told the voice encouraging him to keep his mouth shut to be quiet, and then said, “Oscar adores you. And, I think, as long as you two keep up communication, he’ll drop anyone he’s with to be with you if that’s what you wanted.”

Ezra smiled, not as happy this time, but he squeezed Anthony’s hand anyway.

“Thank you.” He said. “It’s been bothering me.”

“Any time, angel.” He added, catching the blush that rushed over Ezra’s cheeks.

The voice inside him warned that, maybe, he needed to be more careful, to voice how _he_ felt just to keep himself anywhere near the running should Ezra ever decide to trust someone with his heart. Instead, Anthony bent his head and pressed his forehead to Ezra’s should, feeling the blonde’s cheek against his hair.

“Asked mum about the Doc. The one who saw me at A&E?” He said, peeking up at Ezra.

Anthony felt him stiffen a bit.

“What did she say?” Ezra quietly asked in turn.

Anthony chuckled mirthlessly, “that it’s best I don’t bring him up again. That I have an aunt with red hair, and eyes do funny things, sometimes. That it’s just coincidence that she happened to know a bloke from school who has similar physical traits as me.” He lifted his head off Ezra’s shoulder, wincing a bit at the pull of his incision.

Ezra huffed and rolled his eyes, gesturing for Anthony to scoot back on the bed while rising from the chair. Anthony complied, and Ezra joined him on the bed, the two stretched out side by side. Ezra put his hands on his chest and crossed his ankles. Anthony put a hand behind his head, the other resting on his hip, pressed as snug to Ezra as he could be.

“She married dad out of secondary before they started school.” He said, turning to Ezra. “Two well-off families, they’d known each other forever. He went with her to Cambridge, ‘til he finished what he could there and moved on.”

“Do you think your dad knows?” Ezra asked quietly.

Anthony scoffed. “Think if he did, he’d have thrown me out on my arse a long time ago. Not mum, though, appearances and all.”

“I’m sorry,” Ezra said, moving his arm and tucking it behind Anthony’s head so it could loop around his shoulders.

“It’s fine,” Anthony replied, snuggling a bit more into Ezra. “Just a bit of perspective, ya know? Possible I would’ve had a shit dad no matter how it turned out. And it’s only a couple more years, then we’re gone, anyway, right?”

“Of course,” Ezra said, placing his head against Anthony’s.

“Ez!” Eliza called from outside the room before bursting in unannounced and uninvited. She took them in cuddled together on the bed, and in true Eliza fashion, ignored it. “Mum wants to know if Anthony’s going to be here for dinner.”

“Probably,” Anthony answered for him, not moving an inch.

“Right,” Eliza nodded, then smirked, “As you were.” She said, leaving and not shutting the door quite all the way.

They were silent for a few minutes before Anthony said, “think I have any half-siblings out there?”

“Lord, help the world if there are,” Ezra mumbled, which caused Anthony to pretend to be offended for precisely five seconds before conceding that Ezra may just have a point.

**2003**

“I c-can’t _believe,_ ” Ezra frowned. “Can’t believe he went back to _Edinburgh_.”

It was New Year’s Eve, and he was drunk.

He and Anthony were currently on the back porch of Ezra’s home, Dr. Crowley having known where her son was and what he was likely going to do. Also, probably thankful that he was going to be out of the Crowley residence while they threw their annual new year party.

There were one and a half-empty bottles of wine on the table with them because technically they could drink that if they wished, and since neither of them had wine often, even with meals, they were in their cups quite wonderfully. They were also sitting awfully close, the excuse being to drown out the festivities inside (which they escaped in the first place).

Anthony leaned his head all the back and looking up at the night sky. “Can see so many stars. Loved camping out here, seeing the stars.”

“Why don’t you take ‘stronomy, then?” Ezra frowned more. “Seems more fun than business.”

“Gotta take business.” Anthony grumbled while still looking up. “Dad won’t pay for school ‘less I do.”

“E’s probably not even your dad,” Ezra grumbled, then became awash with melancholy. “Miss my dad.”

Anthony cooed, or something like it, then dropped his arm heavily around Ezra’s shoulders, pulling his head down on his shoulder. Ezra thought he felt something pressed into his curls, but he _was_ rather drunk, and it was probably just Anthony’s chin of nose brushing against him a moment.

“Think this is is why he didn’t stay home?” Ezra asked, feeling Anthony’s arm shift around him when he tapped Anthony’s hand.

“Nah,” Anthony replied confidently. “Asked him ‘bout the project. Was something… didn’t understand it, but he was _really_ excited. ‘Sides, couldn’t help but hear how much he was gonna miss ya when you were sayin’ bye.”

Ezra hummed, taking another sip of wine, keeping the feeling of his head being all woozy going. It actually wasn’t a bad feeling, all things considered.

“’E asked me out again,” Ezra said, shifting to try and see Anthony. “Said no.”

“Why?” Anthony asked rather quickly.

Ezra shrugged. “Not ready.” He replied. “Don’t know what I’m waitin’ for. A-levels are done soon, just… not ready. How’d you know you were ready?”

Anthony’s mouth twisted about in some odd ways, some even stranger sounds coming out, making Ezra grin.

“Didn’t see point in waitin’,” Anthony said before taking a rather large gulp of his wine. “Wanted to know what it was ‘bout.”

“Do you regret it?” Ezra asked, furrowing his brow.

“No,” Anthony replied thoughtfully. “Sorta wish it went better, but don’t regret it. Do regret Sarah a bit.”

“She was nice.” Ezra countered.

“Was. Too nice.”

“I’m nice.”

“You can be a right bastard, angel.”

Ezra went to argue, then realized Anthony was probably right on some level.

“Yes, dear,” He said instead, relishing the giggle that came from Anthony, pressed up against him.

“No, she,” Anthony said, taking another drink. “She was, she was just so… ya know? And, she shoulda had better than me. Like you! You deserve better than me!” Anthony exclaimed.

Ezra lifted his head. “Oh, do fuck off.” He scowled, and Anthony threw his head back and laughed, hard and loud. It made it very hard to maintain the scowl. He poked Anthony in the ribs, though he could never land the same place twice, so it was more like a very ineffective tickle. “Adore you, you idiot. Deserve better. Tell you who does, ‘s you.”

“Adore you, too,” Anthony said as he hauled Ezra back to him, this time with both arms.

Ezra had missed when Anthony had put his cup down, and not wanting to be the only one holding a drink, he set his down, too. He wrapped his arms around Anthony in an awkward embrace neither of them seemed to end despite being uncomfortable.

Sometime later, somewhere in the distance, fireworks started going off. Anthony turned his wrist, presumably to see his watch.

“Hey! ‘S midnight! Happy new year!” Anthony threw his arms out to the side as he twisted in his seat to look at Ezra.

“Happy new year!” Ezra replied, and then they went back in for another hug, laughing. When the laughter began to die down, Ezra placed a quick peck to Anthony’s cheek, surprised to realize he felt a peck on his cheek at the same time, or at least a second later. Both of them stiffened before slowly drawing back to look at one another.

There was confusion, and hope and a little longing that Ezra knew were mirrored on his own face. He didn’t have long to think on it thought before the back door opened, and they were bombarded with a significantly more drunk Eliza, along with Deidre and a few other girls from their ever-changing click.

There were more kisses on cheeks, more happy new year’s exchanged, another few drinks, and then everyone stumbled inside to be warm.

At some point, they all fell asleep in the living room, and when Ezra woke the next morning it was with his head resting on the back of the couch, and Anthony’s head in his lap. Not a terrible way to start off a new year, really, and certainly different than anyone previous. And it was then that Ezra decided that maybe this year would be different altogether.

**2004**

“Hey, angel,” Anthony said, bumping Ezra’s arm to get his attention. “Ready for the exams?”

“Yes?” Ezra replied, not looking up from his book. “Why would I not be?”

Clearly, this meant that Ezra wasn’t paying full attention to the conversation. Which, really, Anthony couldn’t blame him.

They woke up that morning at the Fell’s, having kipped out in sleeping bags in the living room as Ezra’s room was too small to fit them both unless they both took the bed. Which, well, it became an unspoken thing that the two of them sharing such a small space wasn’t the best idea. It held a heaviness to it that Anthony didn’t want to face for anything, and if he woke up just as smooshed and snuggled into Ezra when they were on the floor, well, that was because he rolled around a lot.

After waking, having a morning cuppa, and munching down some breakfast, Eliza eventually joined them, mentioned that she was going to meet Deidre downtown, and would they like to join them? Which they did, but it wasn’t just Diedre but another one of their friends that Anthony didn’t know the name of. And while they were down there, his current girlfriend Clara found them, promptly abandoning her friends to hang off his arm and make Anthony wonder why he went out with her in the first place.

Blokes were a bit harder to come by, and in the two years since Freddie, he’d only date two others. Girls, however, were not an issue. He didn’t have the string of significant others his peers had; Anthony kept his dating life fairly active. This latest one had seemed a girl of substance, almost as hard to come as a bloke who likes blokes, but she quickly dissolved into something different once they became a couple.

For example, he would never have expected her to be tugging at his arm while he spoke to Ezra where they all say on a concrete short wall in the park.

“Well,” Anthony said, resting his chin on Ezra’s shoulder. “You haven’t looked away from the book since we sat down.” Anthony tilted his head in the direction of the book. “Get that it’s on the exam….”

“I like it, dear.” Ezra countered with a smirk, and Anthony blushed.

Dear was new. Dear came around about a month ago when someone pointed out how "angel" always sounded like a pet name. It had begun with a “hey, angel” “yes, dear” and it stuck. Not dear boy, or fellow, as Ezra had started to use in public - like at his job or at a restaurant- but just dear. It did things to him, mostly making him a bit of an incoherent mess for a few seconds after he heard it.

And grinning like an absolute idiot, sort of like he was now.

“How can you like it?” Clara asked, and the smile was gone.

Ezra looked up, eyes narrowed, and Anthony could just tell he was holding back a sneer.

When Anthony started dating again after Freddie, there was an initial worry in Ezra with every new partner. But Anthony learned from his mistakes and had regularly had outings in which both his partner and Ezra were involved. There were still regular dates, of course, and times behind closed doors between him and who he was seeing, but it was always made clear that Ezra was unofficially part of the package. Which, it seemed, helped Ezra ease into a sort of friendly acquaintanceship with whom Anthony was seeing, regardless of gender.

Except for Clara. He hadn’t shown distaste for anyone Anthony had dated since Freddie until her.

“Well, it’s a classic, for a start,” Ezra replied slowly, almost like he was talking to a small child. “It’s got an excellent take on social norms, the differences between upper and lower class.”

“It was boring.” Clara shrugged. “Barely read it as it was, used the Internet a fair amount just to know the story. Oh, and there was a miniseries.”

“A miniseries!” Ezra said in horror. “And I wonder just how much of the story they cut out.”

“Probably nothing that mattered, which is sorta the point.” Clara countered.

“Alright, can we not argue,” Anthony asked, hands out to the side in a placating gesture.

Ezra, ever the pacifist with the exception of that one time (which Anthony still remembered with glee), shrugged and nodded, relenting.

Clara, who saw this, but hadn’t noticed Anthony glancing her way, smirked in that way that said she thought she won something.

Anthony shook his head, looking up at the sky and then across the park. He immediately spotted someone that made him both happy and utterly sick all in one go, not that he had any right at all to feel sick.

Oscar was crossing the park, his normal posse following quite the distance behind, and he was beaming. He always beamed when he saw Ezra, but that wasn’t what made Anthony feel sick. It was the fact that he knew the moment Ezra saw him, he would close his book, and embrace the older man.

Something shifted between them a couple of years back, just before Oscar left for Edinburgh. They’d only seen him a handful of times since then, mostly during last summer break, but whatever it was wasn’t blatantly obvious. Ezra just blushed a bit more here and there when Oscar was around, and there was a charge in the air or some other sort of silly nonsense that Anthony didn’t want to ask about.

“Angel,” He said, only earning a hum from Ezra.

“Why don’t you call me that?” Clara asked before Anthony could let Ezra know he had incoming.

“Because you aren’t Ezra,” He replied shortly, watching Oscar come closer.

The man only had eyes for Ezra, which was nothing new, but there _was_ something different in the way his eyes lingered on Ezra.

Anthony frowned, deciding to watch how things played out.

Ezra looked up just as Oscar was a few feet away, and as predicted, he closed his book. But what he wasn’t expecting was for Ezra to light up. For him to set the book down on the concrete wall they’d been sitting on and get to his feet.

Anthony watched as his best friend shyly approached a man they’d known for two years now, and did so blushing.

“Hello,” Ezra said with a smile.

“Hey, you.” Oscar smiled wider, stepping forward, reaching for Ezra.

But his arms didn’t go around him, they cupped Ezra’s face. And then he was-

“Oh!” Clara perked up. “I didn’t know he was seeing someone.”

Anthony’s jaw had yet to return from where it hit the ground in order to reply. Because the truth of it was, _he_ didn’t know Ezra was seeing anyone, either. He was pretty _damn_ sure that had Ezra suddenly decided he _did_ want to date someone; he would have known. Anthony had been ready to drop whoever he was seeing at the drop of a hat for a chance to be with Ezra like that, just waiting for the word.

Anthony either missed the word or somehow didn’t get the message across. Obviously, since he was watching Oscar tenderly, affectionately, delicately kiss Ezra. And it hurt, watching that beautiful display, seeing the way Ezra smiled as Oscar pulled back to meet his gaze, to stroke Ezra’s cheek.

“So!” Anthony said, a bit too loudly, causing nearly everyone to startle before looking at him. “This is… new. Are you… greeting all your friends this way, now, Oscar?”

Oscar chuckled, and then looked at Ezra with an affectionate grin. “You haven’t told him.”

“Not yet, obviously. I was waiting for your return. And, I was going to ease him into it. We have all been friends for a couple years now.”

Yes, friends. Right. And yet, despite this change, despite his hands and lips have been on Ezra, Anthony still couldn’t bring himself to hate the guy.

“When did it… happen?” He asked, hoping this wasn’t something that began during Oscar’s last visit back in February, and Ezra hadn’t told him for months.

“Just a couple of nights ago.” Oscar shrugged. “I asked him on a date, and he actually said yes, for once.”

“Right,” Anthony replied, glancing between the two of them. “And this meant instant kissing?”

“Well,” Ezra blushed, deeply, and looked at his hands as he flapped them about. “I hadn’t seen much point in going on a few dates before, perhaps, if he was agreeable, to, well, give this a name. Oscar has been… patient, and persistent these last couple years, and, well, I think he’s, umm….”

Clara jumped up from her spot beside Anthony and ran over to loudly congratulate them and introduce herself while providing their relationship status.

Anthony turned in the direction she’d been sitting and met Eliza’s gaze, Deidre having gotten up to meet the infamous Oscar as well.

Eliza shook her head sadly, though her eyes read something like she thought Anthony was a bit of an idiot, but he was pretty sure that was her standing opinion of him.

She got up, shifting the one body space down from where she was and bumped his shoulder.

“Why didn’t you ask him? Earlier? Like, before we were about to finish out A-levels?”

“Egk, ach,” Anthony shrugged, flabbergasted. “He said… not six months ago that he wasn’t sure he wanted to date anyone yet. Just after Oscar asked him on _another_ date, and he said no. I… I was giving him space, and time, and hoping that… that when the time came….”

“But you have Clara,” Eliza said quietly.

“But I wouldn’t have _bothered_ with Clara if I knew I could have had _Ezra_.” He hissed back. “I would have forgone bloody fucking everyone if I thought I could have had Ezra.” He turned away from Eliza and looked at the new couple talking to the girls. The easy way Oscar put his arm around Ezra, the way Ezra leaned into it. “This morning I was waking up next to him, thinking nothing had changed, and now….”

“Sorry, mate,” Eliza said, putting her arm around Anthony and dragging his head down on her shoulder. He went happily, his heart aching with a loss over something he never had in the first place.

The twisted part was he couldn’t help but feel happy for Ezra, and maybe a little for Oscar, too. Because they seemed like this was exactly what they wanted, and they looked good together.

“Umm, what the hell do you think you’re doing?” Anthony twitched at Clara’s shrill demand, but he didn’t move from Eliza’s shoulder.

And Eliza Fell, goddess that she could be when she wanted, pulled Anthony just a little bit closer. “What I want.” She replied casually. “And I want to hug my friend.”

“He’s my boyfriend.” Clara shot back.

“Yeah, and?” Eliza asked.

“Well, he’s mine.”

“Really? Is he branded? Property of Clara? Pull your trousers and pants down, Anthony, I need to see where she marked you.”

Anthony giggled then, which turned into laughter at Clara’s indignant reaction. “Relax,” He said, patting Eliza on the leg before shifting away from her. “Liza’s like a sister, don’t like her like that.”

“Ew,” Eliza agreed emphatically before getting up and marching over to Oscar. She put her hands on her hips as she craned her head up to look him in the eye. “You hurt him; I will murder you. And I will do it in some really unique and torturous way that you will feel beyond the veil, is that understood?”

Oscar nodded with a grin, glancing at Ezra with a smirk.

“Good,” Eliza said before turning to her brother and giving him a smack upside the head.

“Ow!” Ezra exclaimed, rubbing at the spot she smacked. “What was that for?”

“You’ll figure it out. I hope.” She said sweetly, earning a scowl from her brother.

Anthony smirked, then noticed Clara’s glare and sighed.

Okay, so, Clara wasn’t going to work out. But he wasn’t going to split up with her today. And, perhaps, maybe he would make sure his next partner wasn’t so clingy.

~*~

Getting into Oxford had not been easy, and it was most certainly not what James Crowley had wanted for his son. But Anthony had worked hard, he had Ezra for a study buddy, and when Anthony applied, he hadn’t had a hope that he would make it in. But he had, and he was there, now, at a mixer for the newbies with his best friend standing beside him.

Ezra was over the moon and had been an emotional wreck for days, both after they got their acceptance (his with the scholarship he needed to attend), and the days leading up to their departure for school.

And Anthony couldn’t look away, not for long anyway. Ezra positively glowed with his excitement, his happiness. He was a fourth-generation Fell attending the University, pleased as punch to be carrying on the tradition, and honoring his father in some way. He was so lovely, in fact, that Anthony actually took a picture of him, then used some precious data to email it to Oscar, because if there was one other person in the world who could appreciate how Ezra was in that moment, it was his boyfriend.

He still hated the word, boyfriend, at least when it was in relation to Oscar. Still couldn’t hate the guy, he really couldn’t. And the fact that, after that first moment, the displays of affection were boiled down to nothing more than touches and holding hands meant Anthony couldn’t hold that against him. Never mind the fact that Oscar had found it “endearing” when he heard the pet names Anthony and Ezra (still) had for each other.

“This is everything I dreamed of,” Ezra said, clutching his clear, plastic cup of wine in one hand. When he wasn’t flailing the other about, it was both, but at the moment, Ezra was doing the flailing thing. “Well, perhaps not _this_ bit, specifically, the socializing and whatnot. But being here, getting to learn. Dad would be so pleased, he would, and I am, and,” He ended on a sigh and took a sip of his wine.

“Glad I get to be experiencing it with you,” Anthony replied genuinely, barely able to pull his eyes away from Ezra.

He glanced at Anthony a few times, his smile growing with every dart. “Why are you looking at me like that?” He asked.

“How can I not?” Anthony asked, earning a giddy giggle out of Ezra.

“Oh, stop.” Ezra chided. “You need to meet someone, I think. You’re not used to being unattached, I think.”

“I’ve got you.”

“You know what I mean.” Ezra finished firmly, but still too elated to have it come off harsh. “You haven’t seen anyone since Clara, and that was months ago.”

That was true. And, of course, Ezra didn’t know that the reason behind that was Anthony’s uncertainty if Ezra’s heading to University would somehow end things between him and Oscar. Anthony wanted to be ready, completely and totally, for the chance that it would happen and he could catch Ezra.

“What shall we look for? I’ll be your… what’s it called?” Ezra frowned before lighting up. “Your wingman!” He said proudly, and Anthony chuckled.

“Very appropriate for an angel,” Anthony smirked.

“Yes, yes,” Ezra flapped his hand, waving him off. “Now, are you looking for a lady or a gentleman?”

Anthony never peeled his eyes away from Ezra as the blonde looked around the room. “I think I may be interested in a bloke.”

Ezra hummed, then frowned. “Do you have a… a type, I think people call it. I don’t think I ever really noticed.”

“Blonde,” Anthony replied.

That got Ezra’s attention. “You’ve never dated a blonde.” He protested, then turned back toward the crowd, his eyes lighting up. “Oh! But you have dated plenty of brunettes. And your preference when it comes to men always seems to lean toward athletic.”

 _No_ , Anthony thought to himself. _It_ _’s just that the blonde bookworm I fancy has never been available._

“Him,” Ezra said, pointing to someone before turning to Anthony proudly.

Anthony turned away from Ezra for the first time in a while to see where he was looking.

He was broad-shouldered, the bloke Ezra had to have been talking about. Tall, sort of Adonis-y in a way that actually wasn’t appealing. He was wearing some sort of jumper that had the logo of what Anthony could only guess was likely a school. It had looked very school like, and the color, the deep green, made his eyes look damn near purple from this distance.

Anthony tilted his head as if trying to look at Adonis at a different angle, and when he did, he noticed Adonis glance in their direction, and then do a double-take. He continued to look at them, and Anthony watched as Adonis’ face shifted from a confident smile to something akin to awe.

And it wasn’t at him.

Anthony watched Adonis excuse himself and move toward them from across the room like he was being drawn toward them. His smile returned, growing wider, and he made for Ezra immediately.

“Hi,” He said, offering his hand. “Gabriel Haven.”

“Ezra Fell, a pleasure,” Ezra replied, taking his hand. He didn’t shake it, no, Ezra clasped it briefly. It was something new he was testing out, and this Gabriel bloke seemed taken with it. “This is my friend, Anthony Crowley.”

Adonis -Gabriel- gave him a glance and then the typical double-take Anthony was used to.

“Oh, hi.” He said, slowly pulling his hand from Ezra’s grasp and offering it to Anthony.

“Hi,” Anthony replied, taking Gabriel’s hand for a shake which seemed to increase in firmness the longer they engaged in it. It was just on the side of too long before they withdrew, Anthony pocketing his hands while Gabriel locked his in front of him.

“Contacts?” He asked.

“No, yours?” Anthony countered, realizing Gabriel’s eyes actually _were_ purple.

“No,” Gabriel smiled all teeth and fake charm.

“Anthony has Segmental heterochromia.” Ezra offered. “I’ve always been rather fascinated by it, though admittedly my fascination tended to lead to staring early in our acquaintance.”

“Oh? How long have you two known each other?” Gabriel asked, gesturing between them.

“Five years.” They answered in sync, and Anthony smirked at Ezra who smiled bashfully.

“Yes, we’ve been best friends for a long time.” Ezra offered cheerfully, and Anthony held his head a little higher. Was he the boyfriend? No. But he was the best friend, and that was almost nearly as good. Sort of.

“That’s pretty amazing, actually. Being friends with someone that long. And going to University with them!” He laughed, and Anthony was pretty sure his smile looked more like a grimace. Gabriel turned off his laugh as easy as it came on, putting all his focus on Ezra. “All my guys are back home, mostly in Missouri.”

“Oh, well, perhaps you will make many new friends. What brought you to Oxford, then?” Ezra asked politely, though Anthony noticed a very distinct lack of hand waving.

Gabriel puffed his cheeks a bit as he let out a breath through closed lips. “I wanted something different than a standard American education, you know? Thought maybe if I got out, saw the world, or at least a different part of it.” Here he grinned, nudging Ezra with his elbow, “meet new people.”

“How lovely.” Ezra nodded. “It’s a tradition in my family to come here, it had always been a dream of mine,” Ezra said, gesturing toward the ceiling.

“Tradition is great, really great.” Gabriel enthused. “So, do you two know anyone here besides each other, or?”

“Oh, well, there’s a lovely young woman named Violet that I’m acquainted with, but she’s in her third year,” Ezra replied. “She’s one of my boyfriend’s best friends.”

Anthony watched all the joy drain from Gabriel’s smile at the word.

“Oh,” Gabriel said, somehow maintaining a “winning” smile.

“Yes, Oscar is in Scotland. But our friendship prior to the romantic aspect was primarily long distance.” Ezra nodded. “We’re quite used to being apart.”

“Well, you know, if you’re ever feeling lonely, want to talk,” Gabriel said, constantly making gestures of being open.

Ezra stiffened, very minutely and only in such a way that someone who had known him for a long time would pick up on. His smile fell for just a second before he firmed it up. “That’s very kind of you.”

Someone called for Gabriel, and he appeared torn between staying and going, huffing before bringing clasping his hands in front of him. “I have to go. But I’ll see you around, ‘kay, sunshine?”

“Sunshine?” Anthony grumbled.

“Will keep that in mind, thank you.” Ezra agreed with a slight nod.

They watched Gabriel head back to where he’d come from originally, rejoining those he was with before.

“He’s pretty,” Ezra commented, tilting his head to the side.

“He’s an idiot,” Anthony said, crossing his arms over his chest, lip curling in distaste.

Ezra pursed his lips, narrowed his eyes.

“He’s a pretty idiot.” Ezra conceded. “He reminds me a bit of that character, oh what was his name? The one from the movie… Kronk!”

“Kronk.” Anthony groaned. He sighed, rolling his head to the side to look at Ezra. “Yeah, suppose he does. Seem a bit like him, I mean.”

Ezra hummed happily, a slight wiggle to his body that was positively adorable.

And, if Anthony was bold enough to admit it even to himself, he’d fallen a little bit more in love with Ezra than he already was.

If only he could admit he was in love at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're back to 2019 next chapter, but it isn't going to be all rainbows and butterflies.
> 
> Chapter title from "Wait" by Get Set Go


	15. 6'3 and 200lbs of Satan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's another loaded chapter. Sorry?

They had woken in separate spaces Sunday morning, as they knew they should, but stole kisses when the boys were down the hall. Adam had helped Warlock pack. They whined, and begged, and pleaded for just a little more time together, to which both adults nearly gave in on but stuck to their guns in the end. The Crowleys left the Fells with “see you tomorrow”s and “text you later”s, one “mind how you go”, and then life was back to normal.

Or at least as normal as it was these days, which for Ezra was hardly normal at all. But it was getting there, and it felt far less alien than it had in the beginning.

In the flat with just Adam, he looked around and realized it was as strange as it was familiar. Without thinking much about it, he directed everyone to put things where they had been when he lived with Eliza. There were still anchors in the walls from where the books shelves had been secured before. He’d removed some of the art Eliza had purchased to make way for them, storing them for the future if need be. Aside from the shelves and his books, the family tartan throw and pillows, the living room had remained the same. Every room had remained the same with the exception of the master bedroom, which was really just a large copy of the room he had while living here before, and how he had every master bedroom since he lived on his own.

Adam hadn’t even remarked on it, just carried on with his usual, four-year-old activities.

Ezra was about to go start making a cup of tea for himself when his phone chimed. He grinned like a fool, thinking perhaps it was Anthony, eagerly setting aside his task to see what he’d say.

_Gabriel: Hey sunshine, how does Tuesday sound for drinks?_

Oh, well, less exciting. Still, at least that could happen sooner than later, and Ezra could put to rest any hope Gabriel might have that there would be more.

 _Unless Anthony leaves again,_ the unwanted thought cut through. _Unless you say something monumentally stupid once more_.

No, no he would tell Gabriel what had happened, making sure the man could move on sooner than later. He sent a quick text to Marjorie, asking if she was available Tuesday night. When she was, he replied a confirmation to Gabriel and went about making that tea he was originally intending.

As the kettle boiled, his phone chimed again, and this time when he picked it up, he was pleasantly surprised to see Anthony’s name.

_Anthony: Can I date you Saturday night? Bring Adam by, Anathema can watch them both?_

_Ezra: That sounds wonderful, dear_

“Adam,” He called, ensuring the kettle had shut off before venturing down to Adam’s room. “Adam, how does another sleepover at….” He trailed off as he peered in the door frame, seeing Adam sprawled face down on his floor asleep.

Ezra let out a single, quiet, “ha”, then bent down to pick Adam up, carefully setting him on the bed. He remained perfectly still for a few seconds, ensuring the transfer was a success, then went back out to the kitchen where he made himself a cup of tea. He spent the rest of his afternoon while Adam napped texting like a sodding teenager with a first boyfriend, and only hating himself a little bit for it.

~C~

_Kiss him. Kiss him. Kiss him._

The morning routine proved more difficult than it should have Monday morning. That was probably because he’d spent every moment of Sunday thinking of Ezra when he wasn’t talking to him.

There was Warlock time, too. They built a massive tower of Lego the demolished it. Naturally, they missed a piece or two during clean-up that Crowley would find with his foot. Warlock would laugh at the string of curses, as he always did. They made dinner together, he’d gotten him ready for bed and told him a story. But when his mind was free to think of anything but his son, it was on Ezra.

How kissing Ezra had been so much better than he remembered. How wonderful it was that he’d had just enough wine to loosen his tongue, but not enough to cloud his mind in any way. That they got to _talk_ about what it all meant instead of retreating back to a gathering and then parting ways after like a couple of cowards. He thought of how much he couldn’t wait to do it again, and again, as much as he could because he _could_ kiss him.

But now, in the Bentley, it was awful. Because he had desperately wanted to lean across the space between them and _kiss him_. Not with the boys around, though.

He endured the drive to the nursery by gripping the steering wheel tightly, sounding terribly stiff when Ezra would ask if he was alright regardless of how casual he tried to be. He said nothing as they parked, got the boys out, brought them inside for drop off.

 _Kiss him!_ _Kiss him! Kiss him!_

He was mentally screaming it now, glancing at Ezra from behind his sunglasses as he’d been so lost in daydreaming about him over his morning coffee, he hadn’t had time to put in his contacts before leaving the house.

Crowley moved quickly to open the door for Ezra, waving him out before following just behind.

They’d got to the edge of the building, just at the corner where the walkway met the lot, when Ezra stopped, huffing as he looked around.

“Anthony,” He began, sounding resigned. “I know you said it wouldn’t happen this time, but if you’re having regrets-”

Nope! Nope, they were not going to go anywhere near that route again. Without consideration of where they were, Crowley grabbed Ezra’s jacket and pinned him up against the wall of the building. Ezra barely got to stutter out his surprise before Anthony pressed a quick, firm kiss to his very receptive lips.

Quick, though. They were in public, after all. And in a nursery lot no less.

“What?” Ezra asked, a little dazed when Crowley pulled back.

“No regrets,” Crowley said firmly.

“So, what was with the all that in the car on the way over?” He asked as Crowley stepped back.

Crowley grinned while Ezra straightened his jacket. “Self-restraint. Really wanted to kiss you when I picked you two up. Or tell you I wanted to kiss you.”

“Oh,” Ezra frowned, holding his gaze. “I really dislike those sunglasses. I can’t read you as well with them on.”

Crowley took them off, placing them on his shirt by one of their arms. He winked and turned around to head to the Bentley.

Ezra sighed, which only made Crowley grin wider, loving being able to still rile him from time to time. Ezra’s hand slid in his once he caught up to Crowley’s side, and that changed the grin to something warmer. Crowley hummed happily, forgetting everything else at the moment as they went for the car, passing someone else dropping off their child.

The stranger glared at him as they passed, and for one moment Crowley thought she was being a bigot until he glanced at their kid and saw their wide eyes staring back into his.

Right, eyes.

“You know,” He said as he and Ezra let go of each other’s hands to move to their respective sides of the Bentley. “I was once told it was unprofessional of me to be my natural self. Thought I was wearing snake contacts to work.”

“Really?” Ezra asked as they climbed in. “How terribly rude.”

“Yeah, sorta forgot about that until that one was all high and mighty.” He said, throwing a thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the mum before getting in. “Thought she was being judgmental for a different reason.”

“Oh, no, she definitely wasn’t.” Ezra cut in, shaking his head as Anthony started the car. “There was a sort of festival or party earlier in the year. Eliza dragged me, and while I was there, I was brought into a discussion with that woman and her wife. I do know they both frown upon all the body modifications with the exception of respectable piercings.”

“How did _that_ come up?” Crowley asked as they pulled out of the lot.

“Oh, one of the father’s there was covered in tattoos, had those ear-things that make them quite large.”

Crowley smirked. “Did you mention you have a tattoo?” And then his smirk faded. “Unless you’ve had it removed.”

“I didn’t have it removed, dear.” He replied lovingly. That Crowley could safely assume that it was that sort of tone was a wonderful thing, that made him preen a bit. “And no, I didn’t mention I had that tattoo. Or the other ones.”

“Other ones!” Crowley exclaimed. “What? Where?”

It was Ezra’s turn to smirk. “I’ll show you mine when you show me yours.” He retorted.

“Oh, where mine are is probably third or fourth date territory, at least.”

“So are mine,” Ezra countered, that smirk growing.

“Fuck me,” Crowley mumbled.

“Not yet, dear.”

“You’re going to kill me. Or us, really, since I’m driving.” Crowley said, enjoying himself too much to really mean it.

“You make it too easy, though. Flirting with you had always been something I would do with great caution. Truth be told, knowing I can do it openly now, no pretense of it being a bit of joshing between friends….”

“Yeah,” Crowley replied, a dopiness washing over him, making him nearly miss the turn for the cafe. “It was never a joke with me, though. Even when you were with Oscar or I was with… anyone. I always meant the flirting.”

“As did I. Though I will admit it often made me feel wretched afterward when Oscar was in the picture. I don’t believe I had ever deserved him.”

“He was a pretty great guy.” Crowley agreed as they parked outside the cafe. “Glad he’s married, though. Only have to worry about Gabe, now.”

“Oh, nothing to worry about there,” Ezra said as they got out of the car. As they headed inside, he added, “I plan to tell him tomorrow night when we have drinks. I asked Marjorie to watch Adam for me, I only intend to be an hour or two, and I think the boys really should have some more time apart before they think there will be sleepovers nearly every night.”

“Yeah, good point.” Crowley agreed.

They placed their orders for their usual, and once they were acquired, stepped back outside.

“Quick question before you get in,” Crowley said, pausing with Ezra on his side of the vehicle. “Since you never squashed those boyfriend rumors, what’s your stance on a kiss in the car outside the school?”

Ezra’s eyes twinkled. “Difficult to squash the rumor when you put it in play to begin with.” He grinned. “Or, perhaps, I merely put a birthday wish out into the universe, and it came true for once. Either way, though, I think it best I’m not seen kissing you in the lot. I would hate to imagine the sort of questions some of the bolder students would ask.”

“Well, in that case,” Crowley leaned in, kissing Ezra more gently than he had earlier. “That’ll have to do.”

“What will you do at pick up, then?” Ezra asked as he went to open his door.

Crowley frowned. “Kiss you in the nursery lot, of course. Can’t push you up against a wall all the time.” He said as he got in.

“You know,” Ezra said once they were seated, beginning to buckle up. “I wouldn’t be opposed if you did that with any sort of frequency.”

“Killing me,” Crowley smiled. “You’re absolutely killing me.”

~A~

Tuesday had been about the same as the day before, with less pushing against walls. A bit of a letdown, that.

But there had been a couple stolen kisses in the Bentley before and after work in the nursery lot, though Ezra could admit that that might have to change a bit, lest another parent complains.

They parted ways in front of the Fells, and Ezra started preparing dinner. Once everything was set, he peeked in on Adam in the living room, seeing he was happily playing with his cars and trains, then went down to his room to change.

Ezra shed his blazer, waistcoat, and bow tie, then debated changing his top. This wasn’t a date, of course, and they were just meeting up at the pub around the corner, but he loathed the idea of just going in his button-up. After a quick debate, he pulled a light grey jumper from the closet and pulled it on, returning to the kitchen to check that everything was going as it should, then double-checked that Marjorie would be by a little after six.

Adam came into the kitchen as he set his phone down, and moved to give the pot a little stir.

“Marjorie will be by tonight to watch you while I go out with Mr. Haven for a little while. I should be back for bedtime, but if I’m not, then behave and go down for Marjorie well, alright?”

“Okay,” Adam said, tilting his head. “Are you going on a date?”

Ezra nearly made a mess, half-dropping the wooden spoon he’d been stirring the red sauce with. He thankfully avoided a splatter, then set the utensil aside to properly talk to his nephew. He turned to lean back against the counter.

“What makes you think that?” He asked, trying not to let his voice crack.

Adam shrugged. “You’ve changed your clothes. Mum always changed her clothes before going out with Gavin.”

“I doubt she wore her work clothes when she came out with me and Anathema.”

“No, but she put on her nice clothes when she went with Gavin,” Adam said simply.

Well, he had a point to some degree. His mother was known to wear denims and t-shirts, normal casual wear for a thirty-something. But it wasn’t as though Ezra didn’t have clothes he designated as casual, and it wasn’t like Adam wouldn’t have picked up on that in his life.

“Ah. Yes, I suppose you’re right. But no, I’m not going on a date with Mr. Haven.” He clarified. Then, when in for a penny, added, “but, I will be going on a date with Warlock’s dad on Saturday. Is that alright?”

Adam’s eyes went really wide. “You’re going to go on a date with his dad?” He asked, sounding quite pleased about this.

“Yes,” Ezra nodded. “You’ll - we - will be staying over to the Crowleys’ on Saturday night, and Anathema will watch you and Warlock while his dad and I-”

“Brilliant,” Adam said, his eyes seeming to go impossibly wider. “And if you two get married, he’d be my brother.”

“Well, married-” Ezra stuttered, blushing deeply and growing more flustered.

“When’s dinner?” Adam asked swiftly.

“Soon, but Adam-”

“Can I go play before then?”

Ezra blinked, mouth moving without sound before he simply nodded. Ezra waved an already leaving Adam off to play before he turned back to the stove. Ezra moving mechanically, getting things together to prepare dinner as his mind mulled over other things.

Warlock would be his brother.

 _If_ he and Anthony got married, _technically_ Warlock would be Adam’s step-cousin. Cousin at best, really. But that wasn’t how he viewed things. He said _brother_ , which would mean….

Which would mean….

There was a knock on the door that startled him quite badly, though thankfully the only thing he was holding this time were the pieces of his sanity. He checked quickly on dinner before going to answer it, nearly at the door when it opened anyway.

“Coo-ee, Ezra,” Marjorie called as she came in, her normal blonde self this time. She smiled when she saw him, stepping in and closing the door. “I know I’m early, but I do believe I said we would have to talk about the handsome young man who’s been here _every day_ for the last couple weeks. I brought pie,” She said, showing him her scrumptious blueberry pie. Even if he was bothered by the intrusion, her pie would have made up for it.

“Come in, dear. Would you like some dinner as well? It’s nothing special, just some pasta.”

“I don’t see why not.” She said as she joined him near the stove. “So, tell me about him. Is he anything to do with the other, very striking young man who came by over the weekend?”

Ezra frowned. “Another young man? Do you mean Gabriel? Or Newton?”

“No, no, dear. I know Gabriel, he’s been nipping at your heels for an age. And that Newt boy seemed quite fancy on Anathema. No, I mean the dark-haired man. First dropped by Friday night, waited a bit on the step, and gave up. Came back Saturday not long before you were all moving stuff in. I asked him, then, who he was looking for and he said you. Told him you were moving some of your stuff back in but probably would be home in the later afternoon. He didn’t come by again, though I did see the new one,” She said with a sly grin. “Leaving here with his boy quite late in the day, I must say. So, tell me about him.” Marjorie asked, excitedly rubbing her hands together.

“It’s a long story,” He grinned back, checking on the pots and seeing they were nearly done.

“Better get started, then.” She winked.

And he did. He started from when they were teenagers, relishing in her shock at just how far back they went. He glanced over a few bits, focusing on the history that Marjorie would like, and trying to explain without explaining why they’d stopped talking a decade ago. She seemed utterly heartbroken until he mentioned their park run in, and increasing pleased with everything afterward, including their plans for Saturday.

“Eliza would have been pleased as punch, dear.” She assured as she helped Ezra put plates together for the three of them.

“Eliza would have been a nightmare,” He corrected fondly. “And she’d more hungry for details than you are.” He then called Adam to the table, and the three of them sat and ate, changing the conversation so it was more geared to Adam’s interests.

~*~

He’d gotten to the pub long before Gabriel would, which was partly a mistake because it left him alone with his thoughts, a glass of mediocre merlot, and his phone, with only one person he was willing to text.

_Ezra: I think Adam thinks of me as his dad._

_Anthony: Do *you* think of yourself as his dad?_

_Ezra: Well, sort of, I suppose._

_Ezra: I hadn_ _’t thought of it like that. He’s my nephew, he’s Adam._

 _Anthony: But you_ _’re going to be the one raising him._

 _Anthony: Look, if you weren_ _’t around to take him, or couldn’t, whoever he would have gone with would be his parents, yeah? He’d have called them mum or dad or whatever_

Ezra huffed, eyes darting around the pub a moment before replying.

_Ezra: Yes, I suppose_

_Anthony: So why don_ _’t you think of yourself that way?_

Changing his own title for Adam seemed like it might be a bit much. He hadn’t considered it aside from a brief inquiry from Anathema after the court settled his custody. He was uncle Ezra; he’d been uncle Ezra for nearly five years. Did he want to change that now?

He was pondering it when a shadow fell over the table, and he looked up prepared to greet Gabriel when he was caught off guard. Before him was easily one of the most attractive men he’d ever met. Dark hair, dark eyes, pale skin with an obvious shadow of stubble, and he was dressed very sharply.

“You are a hard man to pin down.”

Ezra blinked. “I’m… sorry.” He started, brow furrowing. “I really do think you might be looking for someone else.”

“You are Ezra Fell, yes?” The man asked, taking the seat that should be Gabriel’s without asking.

Ezra, glanced about, looking for someone who knew him who may want to set up what they may have thought was either a great date or a cruel joke. He then suddenly recalled Marjorie’s rambles about a striking man coming by the flat. And this fellow was very striking indeed.

“I am, but I’m seeing someone. And meeting someone. The two aren’t one in the same.” He managed to get out with only the slightest of blushes.

“It’s alright, I greatly underestimated what traffic on the M25 would be like, and I’m due back in London for a date at seven-thirty. I won’t take very long.

“Originally, I was looking to get back in touch with Eliza. I’m sorry for your loss, she was a wonderful woman.”

“Thank you,” Ezra said, not earning any sort of clarity from the man.

He seemed to understand that, chuckling. “Sorry, I was sure she mentioned me. Lucas Martin.”

Ezra frowned deeper for a moment before the world stopped, and it felt like the floor fell away beneath him. He probably stopped breathing.

“L-L-Lucas… Martin.” He said carefully.

“Yes.”

“Oh, god.”

“No, but I’ve been referred to as such.” He said with a wink that seemed more reflex than genuine. “Listen, I just want to have a little chat, but again, I’m running late. How about Saturday, maybe in the afternoon? I can drive back up here and we can sit down.”

“Sit down,” Ezra repeated. “What … for?”

“The… spawn.” Lucas tossed out like he had no idea what to say.

“Adam,” Ezra corrected.

“Yes, him,” Lucas said, again waving his hands about.

“Excuse me,” Gabriel said somewhere off to the side, and Lucas looked up. “That’s my seat.”

Lucas smiled, and if Ezra had had his wits about him, he may have thought it quite lovely in a wicked sort of way. “Oh, you’re the one he’s ‘meeting’, then. Well, too bad for you, I suppose.”

“Depends on your point of view.” Gabriel countered.

“Suppose it does.” Lucas stood up, re-buttoning his jacket as he turned back to Ezra. “Saturday afternoon. I left my card with the woman who answered your door, just text me a location to meet up.”

Ezra blinked and was fairly certain he nodded as Lucas smiled, patted Gabriel on the shoulder, and left.

Ezra watched him go, and the second Lucas was out the door, he picked up his phone and dialed Marjorie’s number.

“Hello,” She said, a bit too sultry for her to have seen the caller ID before answering.

“Marjorie, dear, was there a man there not long ago.”

“Oh, yes,” She replied cheerfully. “Quite the looker, that one.”

“Did he ask for Adam?”

“No, he only asked for you.” She replied, confused. “I told him you were meeting a friend at the pub ‘round the corner and he left. He did leave his card with me, though. I put it on your table, where you could find it.”

“Okay, please, do _not_ let that man in if he comes back. If he does return, umm… well, call the police, I suppose. And… I don’t know. Just, don’t let him in.”

“Alright, dear. Is everything alright?”

“Yes, quite right. Tickety-boo. Until later, then.” He said as calmly as he could while speaking rapidly. He ended the call and put his face in his hands, trying to get his breathing under control.

“Sunshine,” Gabriel reached across the table, putting his hand on his arm. “Everything okay? Who was that asshole, anyway?”

Ezra looked up and looked into those violet eyes, felt the weight of his hand on his arm, and knew it wasn’t going to help stop the churning nausea in his gut.

He picked up his phone again, opened his messages, and hit the call button. He also put it on speaker, which allowed Gabriel to see the name on the screen and frown, leaning in as Ezra did.

It only rang a few times.

“Miss the sound of my voice already, angel?” Anthony greeted him in a teasing tone, and it helped Ezra a little just hearing it.

“Adam’s father just tracked me down.” He said to the phone.

“ _That_ was Adam’s father,” Gabriel said, pointing to the door as if Lucas was still there. Ezra actually double-checked that he wasn’t.

“Ezra, what did he want?” Anthony asked, sounding the most level-headed of them all.

“H-he wants to meet with me. Saturday. To discuss… something.”

“To discuss what?”

“Adam,” Ezra nearly cried, his hand coming to his mouth as he tried to hold it together.

“Why now? Why?” Gabriel asked, but Ezra could only shake his head.

“Gabe, what’s going on?” Anthony asked.

“He’s … distraught. Understandably.”

“Did you hear any of what was said?”

“Only what Ezra’s just said.”

“He tried to find Eliza first,” Ezra said finally, managing to get the words out. “There was a letter, a week or two ago, just after you and I found each other again, Anthony. It was addressed to Eliza, and I sent it back.”

“Why now?” Anthony asked this time.

Ezra laughed mirthlessly. “Probably because things were going so well.” He replied bitterly.

“Why wasn’t he in the picture?” Anthony asked gently. “I know you said he wasn’t, but… why?”

Ezra glanced up at Gabriel who also hadn’t known, and Ezra sighed, resolved to tell a little of his sister’s business and hoping she wouldn’t hate him from beyond the grave.

“Eliza had said the bloke, Lucas, hadn’t wanted children. I can’t tell you if this was something she’d known from the beginning, or if it was something that came up once she realized she was expecting. All I know is she like Lucas quite a lot, but they’d broken up and stopped all contact once she was with child. She never said anything bad about him, so I … I don’t know what to make of him.”

“But you have custody,” Gabriel said. “He can’t take Adam away.”

“Actually,” Anthony said quietly. “He can. If this Lucas decides he wants Adam, he just needs to bring Ezra to court. They’ll ask for proof of paternity, and once it’s proven… he’s a parent, he has more rights than Ezra.”

“Well, he can’t,” Gabriel replied incredulously.

“But he can,” Ezra said calmly.

“Angel, don’t. Don’t give up just yet. I’ll go with you Saturday to meet this man. Someone there for you, in your corner. I’ll get Anathema to come early if she can.”

“Oh,” Ezra groaned. “Saturday, our-”

“Don’t worry about that.” Anthony cut in, a smile in his voice as he added, “plenty of time for that later.”

“Thank you, Anthony,” Ezra said.

“Don’t sweat it. Now go, have a drink with Gabriel. Text me when you get home.”

“Of course, dear. Until then.” Ezra said, ringing off and picking up his glass. He drained the remainder with a sigh that could have been satisfaction on any other day.

“Another one?” Gabriel asked gently.

“Please,” Ezra nodded, and Gabriel grabbed the glass and brought it with him to the bar.

As Ezra waited, he rubbed his hands roughly over his face and tried not to think too much of the irony. How not long ago, less than an hour, he’d been grappling with the idea of being Adam’s dad, of taking on the name. Now he may very well lose him.

~C~

On Thursday, Crowley had dropped off Ezra at the school then did not go to The Garden. Instead, he drove out of Tadfield altogether. He spent over an hour in the Bentley, working up the nerve to do what he planned, Queen playing only their very best in order to psych him up for the task.

If he was going to be there for Ezra, he needed to understand something about a specific type of absent fathers.

He didn’t return to the town where he and Ezra grew up often. When he did, though, he followed a very specific route despite it rarely taking him directly to where he needed to be. His parents had sold the house and packed his things, bringing them with them to London to store until he was ready to get them. He drove by that house first, then looped past the secondary where he’d met Ezra. Next was the library Ezra had worked at, then Crowley detoured, just slightly, to pass where the Fells had lived. It now made sense why the house had been painted a few years back, and why the garden more been changed a bit. Crowley couldn’t even be sure it was where Cynthia had spent her final days, but the shift in aesthetic had always unsettled him.

When he knew he was cutting it awful close to the time he was meant to be at the local cafe, he drove there and parked, taking a moment to check himself in the mirror. His hair was still neatly pulled back, his contacts didn’t do anything funny, there was nothing in his teeth so he climbed out of the Bentley and headed inside.

He stopped by the counter, ordering a coffee while glancing around both inside and out, spotting the man he was meeting at one of the tables outside. He pointed it out to his barista as he paid, then ventured out to meet him.

The man was lean, with light wrinkles around his brown eyes, and his hair was more silver than not. He was looking at something on his phone when Crowley approached, but as soon as he slithered into the seat across from him, Doctor Tony Adams put down his phone and smiled.

“AJ,” He greeted warmly.

“Dad,” He inclined his head in a sort of nod to go with his cheeky grin.

“How’re things?”

“Not bad, you?” He asked, glancing up as a barista came out with his drink. He smiled at her with a quiet thanks, taking the cup and setting it on the table.

“Good, good,” Tony replied. “Christine’s expecting.”

“Oh, that’s nice.” Crowley gave a little grin. “When’s she due, then?”

“Early in the new year,” Tony said, rolling his own cup between his hands. “Maybe Lock might like to meet his cousin?”

Crowley made a face, “Maybe, but not… not as that.”

Tony nodded, perhaps sadly, but Crowley wasn’t sure how to navigate this bit.

“It’s not like we advertise,” He attempted to explain his reasoning, flapping his hand between them. “I’m James’ kid to everyone, ya know. Least until he kicks the bucket.”

Tony snorted, “Suppose.” He agreed, the sadness fading from his expression. “We weren’t due for a meet up for a bit, so what made you arrange this? And as last minute as it is?”

The nerves Crowley managed to stifle came back with a vengeance. He rubbed his hands over his thighs, trying to work up the courage, then just going for it when it wouldn’t come.

“You once told me… you once told me that you hadn’t wanted kids as young as you were when mum was pregnant with me. You said it took you a few years to really know if kids were something you wanted at all.”

“Yes,” Tony frowned. “But I also told you I would have been there for you if Erica decided to leave James for me.”

“Yeah, I know,” Crowley furrowed his brow. “But I mean… when you knew you wanted kids, did you ever… did you ever want to fight for me?”

It was clear Tony had no idea where this was coming from, and Crowley couldn’t blame him. He was nearly thirty-four, after all, and he’d had a strange sort of relationship with Tony for over a decade at this point. And while James was a bastard, Crowley never complained about his childhood, not even to the man who could have made it very different.

“I’m not asking for me, specifically.” Crowley clarified, which only confused Tony more. Crowley chuckled, running a hand over his face. “I mean, the situation, you know? You gave me up, for all intents and purposes. You gave me up to be raised by mum and whoever she decided to raise me with her, which just happened to be her husband. But Christine is like, what, six? Seven years younger than me? So, did you ever think ‘gee, I should try and get custody of my son’, or have me in your life?”

Tony tilted his head, and it was only years of knowing how his own face looked while he was thinking that made Crowley know that Tony wasn’t confused.

“You crossed my mind often.” Tony began. “You know, this I’ve told you. I’d never not thought about you. But I knew Erica, I knew what kind of woman she was, and I knew she was going to be a good mum. Maybe not a great one, it’s hard to be a great parent when you’re in the sort of work we’re in. But I never worried about you, and I always thought that if we were meant to meet, we would. Either because Erica would tell you the truth, or because of some other sort of intervention. It turned out to be the latter in the form of your appendix.”

Crowley huffed a laugh when Tony smiled, shaking his head.

“Alright,” Crowley nodded. “But what if mum had died? You find out somehow, and you find out I’m being raised by James. Which, let’s face it, really means I’m being raised by a nanny or someone. Would you have fought him for me? Even if he’s my dad on every piece of paper that matters?”

Tony leaned back in his chair. “What’s going on, AJ?” He asked seriously.

“My…. Ezra. Fell.”

“That’s a name I hadn’t heard in a while.”

“Yeah, long story. Just… he’s got his nephew, right? Sister died, and there was no other family, so he has the kid, and on paper, everywhere, it’s _his_ kid. Couple days ago, the dad comes out of nowhere, says he wants to talk. About the kid. Ezra… the reason he gave as to why this bloke was not around, to begin with….”

“He has rights,” Tony said.

“I know,” Crowley said firmly.

“But Ezra does, too.” Tony reached across the table and took hold of Crowley’s arm. “Son,” He said, the word making Crowley’s heartache when it came from this man. “If this bloke wants his son, your friend is going to be in for a fight, and the best thing you can do is be there for him.”

Crowley nodded, patting Tony’s hand before the two slid back more fully into their seats. They each took a drink, trying to find a different footing since Crowley now had the answer, he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear.

“So,” Tony said after a moment, a teasing dad grin beginning to tug at his lips. “Your Ezra?”

“Shut up,” Crowley replied, blushing hotly and ducking his head when Tony started laughing. “It’s new, alright? We haven’t… defined things.”

“Well, from what I remember, I liked him.”

“It was fifteen years ago!” Crowley half-shouted.

“It was not that long ago.” Tony countered.

“No, appendix came out fifteen years ago, last and only time you two would have crossed paths. Was a bit of a gap where we - I - was being stupid.”

Tony hummed thoughtfully. “Right.” He said. “Well, either way. I remember liking him.” He shrugged before shifting a bit forward again. “So, what else is new? Might as well play catch-up while we’re here. Make it less gloomy.”

Crowley nodded, then proceeded to catch Tony up on life since they last stole some time together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I probably should have clarified that "not rainbows and butterflies" didn't mean with *them*, just with everything else.
> 
> Chapter title from "I Hate Everyone" by Get Set Go (Explicit Version)


	16. Try to Hold It In, But You're Making It Hard to Pretend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Throws some fluffy stuff into the air and runs away*

**2004**

“We look ridiculous!” Ezra grumbled, scowling at Anthony from across the room, well out of view of the webcam.

“We do not!” Anthony shot back, grinning in a way that fit his costume quite well if he did say so himself. 

“Why are you two dressed up again?” Eliza asked over the computer, she and Oscar both being connected over instant messenger, though the latter was more quietly amused by everything than anything.

“That American that took a shine to Ezra convinced his dorm to have a Halloween party. More an excuse to drink, I think, since the day is actually tomorrow. But the thing was we had to dress up.” Anthony gestured down at himself, dressed in a black suit and tie with a red shirt. He had a pair of black, feather wings on his back, and a red pair of devil horns on his head. His eyes, for once, were working in his favor. “We’re dressed up.”

“Well, I see one of you is,” Eliza said, smirking as her boyfriend of the time came to watch the proceedings over her shoulder.

Anthony turned to Ezra who crossed his arms. “I don’t know why you insisted we show them.” He said, tilting his chin.

“Because I want to show off my handy work.” Anthony waved him over and was pleased when Ezra relented. He was dressed in an all-white suit, though his bow tie was a sort of golden color. On his back was a set of white feathered wings, and resting on his head was a gold-tone ringlet. It was probably meant for some sort of royal costume, but it looked like a halo, the way it rested on Ezra’s head.

There were hoops and cheers, mostly from Eliza, along with some chuckles when he came into view.

“You look really good, love,” Oscar said fondly, and Anthony tried not to obviously bristle at the term of endearment. 

“Thank you, darling,” Ezra replied, moving his hands about, fluttering near his head but never landed. 

“Okay,” Eliza said as she got herself together. “But, why are you two essentially in a couple’s costume?”

“Because Ezra was about to go as bloody Sherlock Holmes. Or Oscar Wilde.”

“Both would have been perfectly suitable,” Ezra argued.

“And you would have had to explain what you were all damn night. Less time for a drink and having fun.”

“I don’t even want to go!” Ezra protested. “I would much rather spend the evening here, reading, getting ahead of the classwork. Not… dancing, or whatever it is you lot call dancing.”

“You lot?” Anthony retorted. “You sound thirty.”

“Ezra,” Oscar said, getting their attention. “Just go, and have fun. You’re supposed to do these sorts of things while you’re away at university. It isn’t all books, love.”

Ezra huffed. “I didn’t work as hard as I did to ….”

“You are supposed to be younger than me.” Eliza protested, her beau laughing. “Go act it, for once, I beg you.”

“Fine,” Ezra said, moving swiftly for the dorm room door and leaving. 

Anthony watched him with barely concealed amusement and fondness before he turned back to the computer. “I will make sure he has more than one drink and comes back at an entirely unreasonable hour.” He told those on the screen.

“Just keep the Gabriel bloke away, alright?” Oscar asked. 

“Do my best,” Anthony said before signing off, hoping Oscar didn’t catch the wink Eliza gave before he ended the session.

Anthony darted out of the room and found Ezra waiting for him at the end of the hallway. When they caught up to one another, their hands fell into one another’s. It didn’t last long, of course. It was more of a sign to say they were there at each other’s side. And after Anthony swung them once, Ezra let go and wrung his hands instead.

“We really shouldn’t be doing this,” Ezra said as they headed down the stairs, preparing to head to the building next door. 

“Let loose, for once, angel. There will be plenty of weekends where we’ll be cooped up studying. Besides, we’re showing support for _your_ friend.”

“I’d like to think of him as our friend.” Ezra countered.

Anthony merely snorted. “Believe me, Gabriel Haven would be thrilled if I very suddenly wasn’t around anymore.”

~*~

“My point is….” Anthony slurred, trying to remember what the hell his point was. “My point is… dolphins. That’s my point. Their brains.”

“What about their brains?” Ezra asked, nearly as drunk as Anthony was but infinitely more adorable.

At some point during the night, long before the party was winding down and it was as late as it was, they’d changed wings and headgear. Anthony couldn’t remember when, but it was probably after their third drink. Something mixed with an excellent punch that Ezra adored. 

Anthony might have adored it more, he wasn’t sure.

Either way, it was either very late or very early, depending on the point of view. There were only a few others left from the hundred or something people who had been there. Gabriel, of course, looking at Ezra like he’d never seen anything so wonderful in his life (a sentiment Anthony could relate to but didn’t want to bond over. They were on the common room couch together with a ginger girl with some freaky sort of make-up that made it look like she was bleeding from her eyes if you looked too quick. A grim reaper Anthony wasn’t sure he’d seen the face of all night was on the other couch with a delivery driver and a nun.

Anthony was in the chair closest to Ezra, an end table separating them, and the way Gabriel was looking at his angel, it was a piece of furniture too much.

“A sort of fish?” The delivery driver asked.

“No, mammal.” Ginger replied.

“How do ya know?” Driver asked. “Mate outta water, or…?”

“Something to do with their young.” The nun added.

“My point,” Anthony said, leaning a bit too far forward and nearly tipping over. “Big brains. That’s my point. Size of… size of… damn big brains. Not to mention whales,” He stammered. “Brain city whales.”

“Big buggers.” Ezra agreed with a nod that went on a bit too long. He frowned, then began patting himself down before pulling out his little flip phone. He opened it and smiled before answering. “Oscar!” He said, his whole body getting into the action. “I’m quite drunk, darling. Ho-hold on.” He pulled the phone away and hit a button. “Say hello to my boyfriend Oscar, everyone.”

There was a chorus of various drunken hellos before Oscar’s laugh was heard through the speaker.

“I thought that bloke there with the freaky eyes was your boyfriend.” The nun said.

“Anthony?” Oscar asked as if he wasn’t surprised in the least.

“Hi, Oscar,” Anthony said as he leaned far forward again, this time falling on his knees. He scooted across the space that separated them, looking at the phone as if he’d have been able to see the dark-haired man. “I’m… I got him a bit drunk. And we were talking about… what, what were we talking about angel?”

“Haven’t the faintest, dear,” Ezra said, stroking Anthony’s hair a moment before he almost knocked the halo off. “N’ ‘m not an angel anymore. You took my halo. Gave me your horns. We switched. We switched, Oscar. I’m a demon now.”

“S that what I was? Thought I was a demon?”

“Foul fiend,” Ezra said, exaggerating the Fs then giggling about it. “S ‘literation.”

“It sounds like you two are having fun.” Oscar mused.

“Hey,” Gabriel said. “How’d you get a guy like Ezra? You bastard.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Gabriel,” Oscar replied.

Gabriel’s eyes went wide, jaw slack. “He knows who I am. How do you know I’m me?”

“’ Merican.” Anthony pointed out. “Only one we know.”

“Right,” Gabriel said.

“Okay, you two realize it’s three in the morning, right? Ezra was supposed to text me when he got in, and he didn’t. So, when I never heard….”

“Right, gettin’ him home now,” Anthony said, hoisting himself up. “’ Mon, angel. Say goodnight.”

“Goodnight, all. Great… great party, and all.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Gabriel said hopefully, and Ezra merely waved as he stood up, leaning on Anthony for support. Or, maybe they leaned into each other, stumbling out the door, and then out the dorm into the next building.

“Right, so, we’re… we’re going… home,” Ezra said into the phone.

“A Paracetamol, a lot of water, then sleep, understood?” Oscar instructed fondly. “That goes for both of you.”

“Right’o,” Anthony saluted, which just made Ezra laugh harder.

“Right, get some sleep. And I’ll call you later in the day, love.”

“Bye, darling,” Ezra said as he hung up, and the two continued their stumble inside.

~*~

The sun was too fucking bright. Which was funny, because Anthony never opened his blinds in his room ever. It didn’t matter if the sun was at his back, it was too bright.

Which, now that he thought about it, was also wrong. His bed was under his window, not to the side of it. Also… his pillow was awfully warm and lifelike, seeing as how it was breathing. And clutching the hand he had wrapped around it.

 _Oh god, I didn’t_ , he thought, not wanting to open his eyes just yet. He allowed awareness to come to him slowly, and realized two things at once: he was wearing clothes, and he could feel clothing under his arm where his sleeve was uncomfortably bunched up.

Opening his eyes, he found blonde curls in his face. 

Ezra.

They got back. Halo, horns, and wings discarded. Jackets tossed off, laughing as one covered the computer.

He said something along the lines of hiding from Oscar, Ezra hushed him. They had followed his instructions, but Anthony didn’t go back to his room, too tired. Ezra told him to come to sit with him for a bit. 

They’d fallen asleep.

It was wrong, it was so very wrong, but Anthony just wanted to stay there, curled around him. But Ezra wasn’t his to do that with, and it was one thing falling asleep against one another, which they’d done many times over the last few months since Ezra and Oscar became a thing. But they’d never done this. They’d never shared a bed and they’d never woken up to find themselves spooning each other.

Well, Anthony was awake. He knew Ezra was still asleep.

He glanced over his shoulder, finding the second bed was empty as it normally was. Ezra’s form mate had a girlfriend in a flat in town, and he tended to spend most of his time there, commuting to the campus and only crashing when he needed to be up very early for a class. 

Holding his breath, Anthony slithered out of Ezra’s hold, and out his bed, quietly and swiftly moving into the empty bed and shifting just enough to make it look slept in. He glanced over as Ezra began to stir, likely disturbed from having his warmth taken away. Heart pounding, Anthony watched Ezra roll over with a groan, rubbing at his face before freezing. Ezra’s eyes darted to the space beside him where Anthony had been, then he rolled a little to look at the floor.

That made Anthony snort.

Ezra frowned. “When did you move over there?” He asked.

“Dunno. Don’t remember.” Anthony lied.

“I remember you saying you _should_ move. Didn’t remember you doing it.” He flopped back on his pillow. “I am … never drinking like that again.”

Anthony laughed, which started Ezra laughing as well, ramping them both up until they petered out in groans and moans of discomfort.

“Breakfast,” Anthony suggested. “Then call your boyfriend, let him know you’re alive.”

“Right,” Ezra agreed. 

Neither moved. They might have both fallen back asleep. Neither knew for sure, having never seen the time when they woke and which made it that much more amusing when Oscar called and asked if they were really still in bed at one-thirty in the afternoon.

**2005**

~A~

Ezra was not particularly well informed about things going on outside the campus. He was barely kept abreast of what was happening around the campus as it was.

From where he was sitting, with his jaw aching and his pride severely bruised, he was going to start making a point to pay more attention to the events around the city.

Anthony had been occupied, a date perhaps, or some sort of event pertaining to his studies, Ezra wasn’t sure. Which was why he felt very, very bad having telephoned him earlier. But, really, what else could he do? Oscar was in Edinburgh, Eliza was at Cambridge, there was absolutely no way Ezra would ever dream of calling his mother. It didn’t matter if there wasn’t going to be a record of this anywhere that could affect him in the future, he wouldn’t be able to look her in the eye ever again. He figured Gabriel would come, but he didn’t know his number, and he didn’t want him to show up anyhow.

He wanted as few people to know he was in a jail cell as possible.

Well, a cell in the police station near the university, hardly anywhere they would stick a hardened criminal.

The officer passed by again, shaking his head with a grin as he glanced at Ezra. 

“You haven’t let him out yet?” A deeper voice down the hall asked, causing the passing officer to pause.

“No,” The man smirked.

“Jones, I told you. He wasn’t being charged, for fuck sakes, man.”

Ezra sat straighter on the cell bench as the more portly, and a far kinder officer came into view from the other side of the bars. 

Jones laughed as he walked away, and the portly man shook his head. 

“Sorry, bout that,” he said as he flipped through his keys. “Your lift’s here.” He added as he opened the door.

“Oh, is he waiting-” Ezra began, cut off by a giggle that was just out of sight. “Oh lord.”

Anthony sauntered around the officer and into the doorway of the cell, a barely restrained smile as he crossed his arms.

“How?” He asked, his voice breaking on a chuckle.

“I got peckish,” Ezra confessed, blushing miserably.

“Peckish?” Anthony asked, eyebrows lifting. “You went out, on a night where we were playing Cambridge in a football match, because you wanted something to nibble?”

“Well, if you must know, it was the crepes. You can’t get anything decent from the school cafe past 10 pm. And I had a craving.”

“I should just leave you here,” Anthony smirked, getting a chuckle out of the officer (whom Ezra was really beginning to wish he knew the name of). “I have told you. Oscar has told you. Those places are bloody hot spots during and after a match.” He then turned to the officer. “He tried to placate them, didn’t he? That’s how he got swept up in all this, wasn’t it?”

“It’s what they said.” The officer said. “He told us, but not like we hadn’t heard that before. But the others, they all said he was just trying to be a stand-up bloke and all.”

Anthony shook his head. “Trying to do the right thing, and look where it got you.”

“You’ve made your point, and had your fun.” Ezra crossed his arms.

“No, I really haven’t,” Anthony replied. “That comes when we talk to Liza.”

“No, please. Don’t. Please.” Ezra begged as he moved for the door.

“I think it's better if next time you stick with your, ah, um, your… bloke.” The officer said, waving his hand between the pair of them.

Ezra blushed. “Oh, oh no, he’s not my bloke. He’s umm, well, he’s got a girlfriend now, these days. I think. Hard to keep track sometimes. And I, well, I have a, umm, a gentleman… friend.”

“Don’t hurt yourself, angel,” Anthony smirked. “I’ll take him home, officer. Have a good evening.” He dropped his arm around Ezra’s shoulder and guided him out of the station and into the city. 

It was quiet, just after midnight, most likely. Ezra hadn’t been at the pub (with an unusual menu that happened to have some breakfast items) long before the mini brawl began to break out. He’d only just finished his order, having paid his bill, when it started. The officers that made the arrests must have been fairly close, because Ezra had only just tried to pull one man off another, receiving an elbow in the jaw for his efforts, before he found himself cuffed and placed in a car being brought in for questioning.

He hadn’t realized he’d thrown on his Oxford sweater to go get a nibble, something he would normally never wear outside of his dorm and only as a sort of lounge top. He had standards, after all.

Apparently to Jones, it had been all he needed to think Ezra was involved in the disturbance, what with him seeming to be in the thick of it when the officers arrived. Thankfully his word had been backed up pretty quickly by the few others who were brought down as well, none having seen him before. The friends who weren’t brought in but came down to get their mates out backed up the statement, but Jones still wouldn’t let him go until someone came to get him, or his shift was over.

Ezra suspected there might have been a healthy dose of discrimination there, but he’d never be able to prove it.

“So,” Anthony said, dragging out the word as he put his hands in his pockets. “You got yourself landed in jail. Always thought I’d be the one being bailed out.”

“You didn’t _bail_ me out, you fiend.” Ezra glowered. “You merely came so they would let me go. Either way, I am very grateful.” He relented in the end.

“You’re welcome,” Anthony said, bumping Ezra’s shoulder with his own. “Sorta balances out, anyway. Saved me from a truly awful date.” 

“With your girlfriend?” Ezra frowned.

Anthony frowned back. “No,” He replied. “I haven’t been seriously seeing anyone for an age, now.”

“What about that one, there. What was her name? Ellie or something?”

“No, no, Ellie’s just a friend from my economics class. Great note taker, she is. No, I was on a date with this girl from my astronomy elective. Let me tell you, she was … I only went on the date to shut her up, get her to stop asking me. Sorta wish I didn’t.” He smirked. “Don’t think she believed me when I said, ‘gotta go bail Ezra outta jail’, though.”

“You didn’t bail me out,” He sighed heavily. “But that is what you will be telling everyone, isn’t it?”

“No,” Anthony assured quickly. “Oscar will probably want to repay me or some such rot, and Eliza would end up holding it over your head. Be our secret.”

“Oh, really?” Ezra asked, eyes wide and hopeful. There was a chance Anthony might have been teasing, that he might have actually intended to tell everyone after all. But, Ezra hoped that maybe if he looked earnest and grateful enough, Anthony would keep his mouth shut.

Anthony worked his jaw. “I will. On one condition.”

“What’s that?” Ezra asked.

“You know my appointment Saturday next?” 

Ezra thought about it a moment before he recalled. “Oh, yes.”

“Come with me.”

“Oh,” He said, surprised. “I hadn’t thought you’d want me there.”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“I don’t know.” Ezra blushed. “Probably because of… well, it would be a lot of… skin.”

“We’ve known each other since we were thirteen years old, think you’ve seen me without a shirt a few times.”

“I suppose.” Ezra nodded. “Just feels different now, somehow.”

“How so?” Anthony asked. 

Ezra couldn’t answer him in any way that didn’t sound absolutely horrid. For instance, he couldn’t tell Anthony that he still quite fancied him, not that Anthony knew he ever did in the first place. And that if it had been nearly anyone else at all, he wouldn’t have been bothered. But since it would be Anthony taking off his shirt, Anthony who he’d be in the presence of for who knew how long with that much skin exposed? No, it wasn’t possible, not feasible, not without some sort of reciprocation. Like, for instance, thinking of Anthony instead of Oscar at an absolutely awful time.

He couldn’t give him an honest answer as to why he shouldn’t be there. So, Ezra grinned and gave a half-truth, one much easier to swallow.

“I suppose I’m just being an old silly,” Ezra said. “I’ll gladly go with you if you want.”

“Excellent.” Anthony beamed. “I think you’re going to like it.”

“Tell me about it over a snack. Still feeling a bit peckish,” Ezra said.

“Fine, but it’s something quick. Not risking you getting into another fight tonight. Jaw looks awfully purple as it is.”

~*~

He was surprised by how early Anthony had set up this appointment, but as Ezra was an early riser, he didn’t mind much. Still, after grabbing a bite to eat (”don’t let anyone punch you this time, angel”), they made their way to a little shop that you would likely walk by if you didn’t know what you were looking for.

It didn’t even look open, the windows were relatively dark, no sign of life near it.

“I realize you said 10 am, but are you certain they’re here?” Ezra asked as they approached the door.

Anthony merely smiled before pulling the door, the bell above jingling before they stepped in.

Ezra took a look around and found it in himself to realize he’d been a bit presumptive. He’d expected loud, heavy music. He’d expected it to feel a little grungy. He expected there to be an awful smell.

Instead, the tattoo parlor was clean, bright despite the outer appearance. Everything felt sterile, proper, nothing out of line, not even in the case beneath the counter that displayed various instruments and pieces for piercing. Behind the counter, there were cubicles just high enough for someone’s head to peek over the top of. From one that had a privacy screen in front of it came the steady buzzing of the machine.

“Oh,” Ezra said as he looked around. “Well.”

“Crowley!” Someone greeted, and Anthony grinned as a tall, bald man with some interesting piercings came up to greet him with a friendly handshake. “Ready to keep going?”

“When you are,” Anthony responded.

“Sorry, keep going?” Ezra asked with a frown.

“Yeah, we’re gonna be here a while,” Anthony said as he followed the tattoo artist’s lead. “I’m getting one colored in.”

“One colored… what the devil do you mean ‘colored in’? When did you get a tattoo to begin with?” Ezra asked as he kept pace.

“Last week when you had your webcam thing with Oscar.” Anthony frowned. “Made it sound dirtier than I meant to.”

“So you must be Ezra.” The artist grinned as he set a paper on a thing that looked like it might have been a massage table, or even a chair if folded in the right places.

“Yeah,” Anthony said as he took off his jacket, hanging it on a rack in the corner. “I brought him along so I wouldn’t talk your ear off for the hours we’re going to be here.” And as he reached for his shirt, he added, “It’s his repayment for me bailing him out of jail.”

Ezra huffed and rolled his eyes as Anthony took off his shirt. “You didn’t bail me out of jail, you merely came to pick me up at the- oh my!” 

So, Anthony was just as lithe and lovely as Ezra had remembered him being, perhaps with a bit more hair on his chest and trailing down from his navel. But the outline on the left side of his body was what caught his attention. From beneath the waist of his denims came a long vine of ivy, creeping up his side before curling around to his back, snug to his arm. It went over his shoulder, a single leaf on the very end placed over where his heart would be. Entwined with the ivy was a snake, though Ezra had no idea if it was supposed to be a specific kind. It went the opposite way of the ivy, slithering up his chest with its head resting on Anthony’s back.

“Oh, Anthony,” he said, gently turning his friend this way and that to get a look at it. “Oh, I knew you said what you were planning on getting, but I never thought it would look like this. Oh, it’s very lovely.”

“And it’s not even colored yet,” Anthony said as the artist seemed to preen.

“Well, I’m glad to be here for….” Ezra trailed off as Anthony’s hands went to the button and zip of his denims, deftly undoing them like it was the most natural thing to do in public. He then began to shimmy them as well as his pants down a bit, and Ezra had to look away. 

Had to. Absolutely imperative that he did not glimpse… that. Or anything near it. Bad enough that now he was going to have the memory of all this.

“Not naked here, angel.” Anthony teased, and Ezra steeled himself to peek over. Sure enough, the denims and pants were just a couple inches lower than normal, nothing obscene, provocative perhaps, enough to titillate if he allowed it, but Anthony was still covered. 

Anthony hopped up on the table, stretching out along the very edge and allowing the artist to have access to the tattoo.

“How badly did that hurt?” Ezra asked curiously as he sat in a chair the artist pulled over by Anthony’s head.

Anthony shrugged as the Artist pulled over a little stool, and then a little table with a bunch of very tiny pots that barely looked like it would hold anything.

“Bit over the ribs,” Anthony admitted. “Which is most of it.”

Ezra giggled. “Do you need to hold my hand?” He asked, scooting around to the opposite side of Anthony’s chair, getting further out of the artist’s way.

“Certainly not going to say no,” Anthony replied cheekily.

~C~

“How ya doin’, angel?” He called to the other side of the cubical where Ezra was with a second artist. It had been months since he’d sat in on Anthony’s session to get his large tattoo finished. Ezra had been utterly awed and fascinated by the process, and while he didn’t talk Dave’s ear off while he was inking Anthony’s skin, he asked as much as he could between times under the needle.

Anthony hadn’t realized Ezra’s sudden interest in art and tattoos was because he had decided to get one himself. It freaked him out the first time, Ezra, in his beiges and browns, sweater vest, and bow tie, approached a group of very punk-ish students with the phrase, “excuse me, I couldn’t help but notice you have a tattoo.” He’d seen the whole crowd get ready to go on the defensive, standing tall and intimidating, ready to give Ezra a piece of their minds. “Would you mind telling me how you came to decide on this specific piece? Was it something you simply liked, or did it have some meaning to it? It’s quite lovely.”

Anthony had stood slack-jawed and flabbergasted. The crowd had looked at one another, then the person Ezra asked first began to hesitantly answer Ezra’s questions. His enthusiasm and interest ended up spurring more open responses, of the others showing their ink to him, and soon Anthony had to remind Ezra they had somewhere they needed to be. This happened more frequently than Anthony had expected, until one day, near the end of term, Ezra had decided he wanted to meet with an artist from the parlor Anthony had gone to.

One of Dave’s colleagues was more than happy to sit down with Ezra and design a tattoo for him: a stack of four books with a teacup sitting on the top. 

And while Ezra was having his consultation, Anthony spotted a simple design he thought was kind of fun in a slightly cheeky sort of way: a simple pair of black, feathered wings. He asked Dave if he could book a slot at the same time as Ezra and if he might add a pair of little red devil horns floating over top.

Of course, Dave agreed, so that’s how Anthony found himself in the chair again less than a year after his first, enduring another bit of stinging so he could say he and Ezra got something done at the same time. This time, just behind his right shoulder, opposite of his gorgeous black constrictor.

“I’m doing just fine, dear,” Ezra said like he meant it. Which, he probably did, seeing as how he never seemed bothered by pain. “And you? I’m not there to hold your hand this time.”

Cheeky bastard.

“Nearly done,” He said, mostly because Dave said he was nearly done a few minutes ago.

“You’re almost done, too.” Dave’s colleague said, just loud enough Anthony could hear him.

“Oh, really? Somehow I thought it would take longer.” Ezra sounded genuinely surprised.

“My other one was hours because it was big,” Anthony said.

A few minutes later, Anthony was directed to the full-length mirror where he could see the wings and horn placed just on the back of his shoulder. “Excellent.” He said with a pleased smile. He held still while Dave applied the ointment, then gently wrapped the tattoo.

“You need any more aftercare stuff?” He asked as Anthony turned around.

“No, I’m good. Mind if I peek around before we settle?”

“Take your time, man,” Dave said as he went about cleaning and sterilizing his station.

Anthony darted around the cubical to where Ezra was still hunched over, appearing all the world like he was getting a pleasant, relaxing message instead of steadily pierced with a bunch of tiny needles. Anthony glanced away from Ezra’s face to the work being done just behind Ezra’s left shoulder and was a bit stunned at what he saw. 

He must have made a noise because Ezra said, “I wanted to surprise you, after seeing what you were getting done. And I suppose I have a certain fondness for the nickname you bestowed me.”

“Huh,” Anthony got out because he didn’t know what else to say without sounding too terribly like an idiot. 

Joining Ezra’s little stack of books with its teacup, was a pair of white wings with a halo floating over top.

“You don’t like it?” Ezra asked shyly.

“Uh-I-egk… we’re going to have… matching tattoos. In… corresponding places. I’m… that’s… awesome.”

“Oh, good.” Ezra sounded relieved. "I thought maybe you might find it a bit ridiculous.”

“No, I’m… genuinely honored that you wanted to match. Truly.” And then, because he couldn’t help it. “Oscar is going to be terribly, utterly jealous.”

“Oscar already knows, dear. I told him the other night,” Ezra smirked.

That put a slight damper on things because Anthony figured if Oscar didn’t approve, then maybe Ezra wouldn’t have bothered. Then again….

“What did he think of it?”

“He thought it a very odd combination but trusted that I knew what I wanted. He wasn’t very fond of the idea of my getting a tattoo to begin with, but as it is my body.”

“Yeah,” Anthony said, shaking his head as he realized it was just one more reason why he couldn’t hate the guy.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me start by saying I'M SO SORRY. Both for giving you guys two back to back somewhat not fun chapters (first Oscar and Gabriel, and then Lucas. I wasn't thinking, there was no buffer, and I'm sorry)  
> And second, I'm sorry for not replying the to comments from the chapter before last. I have no excuse, except maybe being tired.  
> I'm working as hard as I can to maintain my chapter buffer, so you can have the next one which takes place in 2019.
> 
> Chapter title from "Best Friend" by Ingrid Michaelson


	17. Tired Eyes Just Lay Your Head On Me

“You haven’t been sleeping,” Anthony noted not unkindly. 

“No,” Ezra replied, glancing at him out the corner of his eye. “No, I haven’t.” 

There was no sense in lying, Anthony would have seen through him anyway. Ezra hadn’t taken his prescription, but he did take what was available at a lesser strength that might allow him a bit of rest. It worked well enough to get him through the days, buying him a few hours of a quiet mind. But Ezra couldn’t, wouldn’t take anything stronger on the off chance Adam would wake and need him. And considering the metaphorical hourglass quickly running out on what might be his time with Adam, Ezra couldn’t bear it.

Anthony glanced at him a couple of times before glancing in the mirror at the boys who were equally quiet in the back. “How about a sleepover tonight?” Anthony asked them without consulting Ezra, and he was ready to protest when Anthony continued. “We could watch a film, the four of us? How’s that sound?”

There was a murmur of agreement in the back, happy as anything but more subdued in their excitement than normal.

“Can we get some pizza?” Warlock asked.

“If Ezra’s okay with it?” Anthony said, glancing at Ezra then.

“Of course, my dears.”

They dropped the boys off at nursery, and if Ezra hugged Adam tighter, kissed those unruly curls more than once, that was his business. He didn’t want to think of it as one of the last times he would get to, assuming that Lucas wouldn’t rip Adam away immediately. His card stated he was a partner in a law firm, so he likely knew he couldn’t do that.

There was no kiss when Anthony walked him back to the Bentley, but he did take Ezra’s hand which was almost as nice.

They got back in the vehicle, Anthony started the engine, and they were heading for the cafe.

“I know I didn’t ask you, I should have.” He started when they were on the road.

“What do you mean, dear?” Ezra asked, frowning.

“The sleepover, we arranged one for tomorrow for… but that doesn’t matter. I should have asked about tonight.”

“It’s fine.”

“You need sleep,” Anthony said, getting more to his point. “And if you won’t take your insomnia meds when alone with Adam, then you are going to take them when you’re with me. When I can be there, too.”

Ezra’s throat tightened. “Anthony, you don’t have to do that. I know having your sleep disrupted by your own child isn’t exactly pleasant, but-”

“I… Adam is not, nor will he ever be a burden to me.” Anthony stated, calm but firm. “Ezra… I’m serious about this. About us. This isn’t me just… playing out some fantasy from when we were kids, and I had a massive crush on you. Even if you had said you’d moved on, and that our first kiss meant nothing, I would still want to be there for you and Adam.” He swallowed, a choked looking thing that had Ezra’s heart clench. “And if the absolute worst happens, I will be there for you.”

The words nearly spilled from his mouth, resting on his tongue and pushing against his lips. I love you, Ezra wanted to say, desperately and with every ounce of emotion raging through him.

He settled for waiting for Anthony to park outside the cafe and cut the engine before reaching across the space between them and cupping Anthony’s jaw, turning his head and bringing their lips together so Ezra could kiss him with all he was holding in. The strands from Anthony’s hair, not yet pulled back for work, tickled against Ezra’s fingers, and he decided to comb them back and out of Anthony’s face for a moment.

Someone deepened the kiss, he or Anthony or both together, but after a few seconds, Ezra pulled back.

He grinned shyly. “There are, on occasion, students who come here before class as well. And while I don’t terribly mind those ones seeing you kiss me quickly on the way to work, I should probably refrain from something more intimate in such plain view.”

Anthony gave him another quick peck. “If you must.”

They got out of the car and went inside the cafe, getting their usuals and taking a seat. 

“I’ve asked Lucas to meet us here,” Ezra informed Anthony as they began to nibble. “I know it seems strange, but I wanted it to be as far from Adam as was reasonable. As if somehow that would be helpful.”

“Angel, I wouldn’t have thought you strange to go to London. I… this is something… it’s a situation I genuinely don’t know anyone to have been in.”

“You don’t have to come with me if you don’t want to.” Ezra offered the out, but Anthony was already shaking his head before he’d finished the sentence.

“If you want me there, I will be there. If you want me to wait in the Bentley, I will. I will do whatever you need me to.”

Ezra smiled, adoring Anthony just that little bit impossibly more. So much that he felt the need to glance up when he heard the door to the cafe open and was startled to find Gabriel there, coming toward them.

“How’re ya doing, sunshine.” He said as he came over to their table, grabbing an empty chair on his way and sitting down without invitation.

“I’m… well,” Ezra replied. “Or as well as I can be. Not much has changed since last night.”

“You look tired, do you need a hand with Adam?” Gabriel offered.

“Got it covered, mate,” Anthony replied. “They’re staying with me tonight.”

Gabriel glowered. “You know, I remember, now, why I didn’t like you very much. You monopolize him. He’s not yours you know?”

Anthony’s eyebrows went up as his eyes went wide, a glint of mischief in them. His lips began to twist in a restrained grin, and he turned it to Ezra.

“You’re in trouble.” He teased.

“No,” Ezra said firmly.

“So, so much trouble,” Anthony added, shaking his head slowly, that grin getting wider.

“Anthony,” He half-warned, half-pleaded.

“I’m not mad at him,” Gabriel interjected, confused. “Why would he be in trouble?”

“Don’t we need to get you to the school, angel?” Anthony asked with a chuckle.

“We do.” Ezra nodded.

“I’ll take him,” Gabriel said quickly. “I mean, if you have him with you tonight, then at least let me take him the rest of the way to the school.”

Anthony pursed his lips as he glanced between Ezra and Gabriel before he nodded. “Alright.”

They all stood, Ezra and Anthony grabbing their take away cups while Gabriel returned the chair he’d stolen back to where it was.

Outside, Gabriel's car was just behind Anthony’s, and Ezra felt torn between following routine and keeping the peace.

Anthony took his hand, giving it a squeeze. “Pick you up at the regular time. We’ll swing by your place and grab stuff for you and Adam, and then back to mine.”

“Pizza and a movie.” Ezra nodded, “sounds lovely.”

There was a tense moment, one where Ezra knew he would have probably kissed Anthony, or Anthony would have kissed him. Instead, the fiend smirked, glancing at Gabriel before looking back at Ezra and shaking his head. “So much trouble.” He said before quickly lifting Ezra’s hand and placing a quick kiss on his knuckles before heading to the Bentley.

“Have I mentioned how nice it is that you two re-established your friendship?” Gabriel asked with false warmth, opening the passenger side door for Ezra.

“Gabriel,” he started gently but wasn’t able to continue.

“You two were always so physical with each other like that. It’s nice that all those years not talking to each other hasn’t dulled that between you.”

It was a hint, perhaps, or something. Either way, Ezra could tell Gabriel wouldn’t hear that there was something else going on, so Ezra dropped it.

“Yes, Anthony and I are finding no lack of intimacy.” He said as he got in the vehicle.

Gabriel closed his door like a gentleman, walking around the back to get in. Something, Ezra realized, Anthony didn’t do for him. Which, it occurred to him, may have somehow been the point.

“So,” Gabriel began as he started the engine. “I know tomorrow night you’ll probably not want to do much of anything. But maybe Sunday, depending on how tomorrow goes, you and I and Adam could do something?”

“I suppose I will have to wait and see.”

“Anthony doesn’t have something arranged with you, does he?”

“No,” Ezra assured them as they headed on their way. “No, Anthony and I try not to have plans for school nights if it can be helped.”

Not entirely true, and if things went the way Ezra really hoped they would, both between him and Anthony and regarding Lucas and Adam, that could change. He hoped it would. He prayed it would, even if he wasn’t one for saying such things even to himself.

“Well, how about you have plans with me, then?” Gabriel asked as they pulled up to the school.

Ezra unbuckled his seat belt but didn’t get out just yet. “I won’t promise anything.” He said. “But I will keep that in mind.”

Gabriel smiled softly, then began to reach across the space between them. Whether it was for Ezra’s hand or his face, the trajectory wasn’t certain, but Ezra abruptly opened the door and looked at the floor of the car. 

“Oh!” He exclaimed. “My briefcase. I must have left it in Anthony’s car.” 

“Did you need it?” Gabriel asked. “I could detour to that flower shop of his, see if I can swing it by for you.”

“No, no, there was nothing terribly pressing.” Ezra waved him off as he clamored out of the car. He bent down to speak to Gabriel from there. “You’ll be late if I keep you much longer, what with the drive and all. Mind how you go!” He shut the door, and turned briskly to the school, finding a renewed sense of energy to put as much distance between him and Gabriel as possible.

It only occurred to him as he crossed the threshold that he was fairly certain he and Gabriel had never discussed, nor had it ever come up, what Anthony did, or what sort of shop he ran.

~C~

Had it not been for the dark cloud hovering over them, it would have been a wonderful night.

“Cheese pizza’s the best,” Adam declared with great confidence, head held high.

“Sausage,” Warlock countered, equally confident as he shook his head.

“Well, I suppose it must be terrible for you both to know that all we got was one covered in mushrooms and olives.” Ezra had teased as he returned from upstairs, changed (reluctantly) into the requisite pajamas for the evening’s activities.

The week before he’d worn long sleeves, so Crowley was temporarily stunned by the amount of bare arm on display.

The boys giggled at Ezra’s teasing, but Crowley couldn’t pull his eyes away from the bit of ink high up on Ezra’s inner arm, just where the cuff of his sleeve would have rested if they were long and rolled up.

“Third or fourth date territory?” Crowley managed to say as he opened one of the two pizza boxes, revealing the one that was half simply cheese, half with sausage.

Ezra furrowed his brow, then glanced down at his left arm. “I do have more, you know.”

“Can’t wait to see them,” Crowley smirked as he dished out the food for the boys.

Ezra went on to get theirs ready, and (much to Adam’s delight) they moved to the living area where they could eat and watch films. 

Warlock and Adam made a pillow fort on the floor, gleefully chewing and giggling while they chose their film and settled in, only rising for more food, dessert, and bathroom breaks. Crowley was pleased to be curled up on his sofa with Ezra, no space between them, no pretense that they were just very good friends who were extremely comfortable with physical affection. When the food was done, and the plates set aside, they held hands between them, and when Crowley rested his head on Ezra’s shoulder, he felt a gentle kiss placed on his hair before Ezra’s head rested against his.

As bedtime crept closer, they endured the inevitable protests as a team, making sure the boys stayed on task and got ready as they were supposed to. Boys with the dog and duck were tucked into Warlock’s big bed, good nights and kisses shared, and then Crowley and Ezra returned to the living room.

They entwined on the couch together, this time with Crowley holding Ezra, soothing him as he felt the storm of emotions hovering on the surface.

“This won’t be the last time I do this,” Ezra swore. “I won’t allow it. Even… even if Lucas gets him in the end, I won’t let him take him tomorrow. I’ll tell him he needs to ease into this, that he can’t just uproot him when he’s only just getting used to the way things are now. Resilient or not, he’s just a boy, a little boy, and I can’t-” His voice, which had been so strong and brave before, had finally broke, and he pressed his face into Crowley’s shoulder.

He hushed him, running a soothing hand over his back. “Angel, it’s alright. We’ll get through this, I swear it.”

“Do you ever worry Harriet will do this to you? Try and take Warlock?” Ezra asked.

“Not at all,” Crowley replied. “Harriet didn’t even put her real name on the forms. Jane Smith, that’s what she put. The nurse knew, but couldn’t change it even if they wanted to. All Harriet did was fill in Warlock’s first name, and what she checked into the hospital as, and that was it. Even if she wanted him, which I know she doesn’t, she would never be able to get him back.”

“I was never sure I wanted children,” Ezra said, shifting so he was now laying against Crowley’s chest. “After you and I… you said to me last week that you had it bad, and it didn’t matter who I was with, or you were with, it was still there. Well, it was the same for me. I think it was to the point that, after Oscar, I thought we’d just be inevitable. And when we weren’t, when things… changed… I couldn’t imagine ever meeting anyone I could care about as deeply as I did for you. And if I could, I had no idea how long it would take me to meet them. Adam was always the closest I thought I would get to having a child of my own. I was more than willing to dote on him and any other children Eliza would have had.”

“We will get through tomorrow,” Crowley said to Ezra’s curls. “We will, and if need be, I will find a fantastic lawyer to fight for Adam with you.”

“Is it terribly cheesy of me to think that maybe Eliza somehow sent you back to me?” Ezra asked, and Crowley had to chuckle.

“If anyone would find a way from beyond the grave to make use find each other again, it would be Liza.” 

Ezra hummed happily. “Yes, it would.” He then stretched up so he would be face to face with Anthony. “I don’t want to think what this last month would have been like if we hadn’t found each other.”

“I don’t think it’s quite been a month, angel.” Crowley grinned.

Ezra smirked. “Really? And here I thought it had been much longer.”

“Shut up,” Crowley whispered, shifting his hand to the back of Ezra’s head and kissing him the way they had in the Bentley that morning. 

What started out as sweet became a desperate kind of hungry. Hips pressed down on hips, hands in hair began to tug, hands on shirts began to pull, and just as Crowley let go of Ezra’s simple t-shirt to venture toward the ties on his pants, Ezra abruptly pulled back.

“Too fast.” He said as he panted. “Too fast for me, Anthony. I can’t… I can’t….”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Crowley said as he chased after Ezra, taking him by the shoulders. He worried, for a moment, when Ezra put his hands on his wrists that he was going to pull Crowley off of him. Instead, they moved from his wrists and covered his hands, rubbing as if Crowley was the one that needed to be soothed. “It’s okay,” Crowley assured. 

“I can’t have our first time together be when I’m like this,” Ezra said softly. “I won’t repeat that, not with anyone, not even with you.”

“Plenty of time for other things,” Crowley smirked. “Though, am curious what else you’re hiding.” he moved one hand to trace the shield with three green diamonds and three pink flowers inside it. “What is it?”

“Fell family crest,” Ezra explained, taking his left hand off Crowley’s right to run his fingers along the tattoo next to his. “I got this one with Eliza, actually. She had the same one just here,” he said, reaching up and brushing the base of Crowley’s neck. “We got it to honor Dad, just before we found out mum was ill.”

Crowley smiled, brushing his thumb over it. “No family tartan behind it?”

Ezra glared, “Was too hard to replicate.” He murmured, causing Crowley to cackle. 

“Suppose you got enough of it,” Crowley said, switching his hand from Ezra’s arm to his thigh, tugging on the pajama pants that were, in fact, the same tartan that had been (and still was) all over Ezra’s flat.

Ezra rolled his eyes but grinned, dropping his head to Crowley’s shoulder. “I’m a mess, darling.” He said softly, and Crowley’s heart did that funny little somersault that only Ezra Fell could get it to do. 

Darling. How he had longed for the name to be directed at him, and now it was. Filled with so much more affection than he ever remembered Oscar getting.

“Then let’s go to bed,” Crowley suggested. “I saw you bring your pills with you when you were packing. Take one, we’ll get ready, and you can stay in my bed. We’ll leave the door open so if Adam or Warlock need us, they’ll see us there together.”

“Is that _really_ a good idea?” Ezra asked, teasing a bit.

“I promise to be a gentleman. Worst I’ll do is spoon you.”

“I think I can handle that. Adam is aware of the shift in our relationship, anyway. And it’s hardly as if Eliza and Gavin didn’t share a bed with him around.”

“How long has he known,” Crowley asked as he got to his feet, taking Ezra with him.

“I had to clear up that Tuesday night was not a date with Gabriel.”

“When you didn’t tell him we’re dating,” Crowley smirked.

“It sort of slipped my mind.” Ezra chided. “And anyway, I told Adam you and I were seeing one another and he was very receptive to the idea.” Ezra blushed, and Crowley nearly prodded to find out what that was about. 

He didn’t, though. He was about to share a bed with Ezra without needing to worry about keeping his hands and limbs completely to himself, and he wasn’t about to risk Ezra changing his mind by being a nuisance. 

Ezra stopped into the guest room to grab his bag, then brought it into Crowley’s room. He grabbed his toiletries and joined Crowley in the master bath where they brushed their teeth together, then took turns using the facilities. 

When Crowley emerged from his turn, Ezra was popping one of his prescription pills. He was on what Crowley would naturally have called his side of the bed, and it made him smile stupidly as he climbed on the mattress next to him.

“I will probably be out in ten to twenty minutes,” Ezra warned as he settled into the bed. “And I may be awful to wake up to in the morning.”

“Impossible,” Crowley said without thinking. “Can’t imagine a world where waking up next to you is awful.”

“You’re a flirt.” Ezra yawned.

“Only with you, angel,” he said as he turned off the light, settling in and against Ezra as he promised he would.

He may have still been out before Ezra was. He could never say for sure.

~A~

Ezra woke to Anthony’s arms around him, and if the day held more promise, he would have basked in it. Instead, he rose from the warmth of Anthony’s bed and padded down to the kitchen. He began to make breakfast, something big and suitable for a family meal when there was a chance they might not have one again.

The boys woke first or at least came down first, and despite the running cheer from both Ezra and Anthony, they’d seemed to pick up on something being wrong. 

When Anathema came to watch them, she flashed Ezra a supportive, sympathetic smile before hugging him tight and quietly wishing him luck. She moved to talk to the Crowleys, her joy and excitement over spending time with the boys a little more put upon than normal.

Which was why Ezra wasn’t so terribly surprised when he got down on his knees to give Adam a good hug, he found himself hugged in return a little tighter than normal. 

“I thought you and Anthony were going on a date?” He asked quietly when he pulled back.

“We… may, still,” Ezra said, knowing full well it depended on how this went. “It’s just, something has come up, and I need to… take care of that first.”

“Nothing bad, though, right?” Adam asked, his lip trembling.

Ezra, despite everything going on inside his soul, set it all aside so he could square his shoulders and looked his nephew in the eye. Be completely and totally honest with him.

“No,” Ezra replied vehemently. “I won’t say you never have to be afraid of things that might happen. I won’t lie to you and promise I will always be here for you because I can’t. But, Adam, you don’t have to worry about the bad. You will always be safe, and will always be with someone who wants you and loves you very dearly.”

Adam studied him for a moment before nodding, accepting the answer.

“Okay.” He said.

“Okay,” Ezra said, kissing Adam’s cheek before getting to his feet. Riding the high of the bravery he put on for his nephew, he stood tall and said to Anthony, “we should be going.”

Anthony, who thankfully seemed to understand the feeling might not last, nodded. He kissed Anathema and Warlock’s cheeks quickly, ruffling Adam’s hair on the way by, shouting at everyone to behave before they left.

The drive was quick, all things considered. Without the detouring first to Ezra’s flat, and then to the nursery, it didn’t take them over long to get to their destination.

Ezra’s phone chimed while they were on the road, and he was half-terrified to check it. But all he had to do was picture the trusting nod Adam gave him, and Ezra was able to brace himself to check his phone.

_Gabriel: Let me know how it goes. I’m here for you, sunshine. Always_

Ezra sent him off a quick reply then put his phone back in his pocket. He rubbed his hands on his trousers until Anthony reached across and picked one up, bringing it quickly to his lips.

“It will be alright, angel. I swear it.” He promised. 

Ezra nodded as he squeezed Anthony’s hand in turn, but he couldn’t bring himself to say anything. 

When they arrived, Anthony got out of the car first and darted around to open Ezra’s door for him. They walked hand in hand inside but made it only just past the door when Ezra spotted Lucas on the phone in a corner booth. No suit, this time. Trousers and a sweater, almost a parody of how Ezra was dressed as Lucas was all dark tones to Ezra’s lighter shades.

“That him?” Anthony asked as if he were expecting someone else. Which, Ezra supposed was probably fair. He probably ended up making Lucas sound like Satan himself. “Can see what Liza saw in him. Hell, if he swung our way even a little, I’d have been hard-pressed, not to-” He stopped when Ezra whipped around to look at him, shock and horror in his eyes. Anthony rolled his own. “Not now that I have you.” And then, seeming to realize where they were, reached into his pocket and took out his sunglasses, putting them on. “Just saying, had I been single….”

“Oh do shut up.” Ezra half-spat, then realized he felt a little better, his bravery beginning to waver. Anthony was smirking, the fiend and Ezra cottoned on to what he did. “Just walk me over, please.” 

Anthony nodded once then did just that, leading them to the booth.

“No,” Lucas was saying to someone on the phone. “No, I said not to send the briefing to them. Bloody hell, you blithering idiot. You need to listen.” He glanced up at their approach. “I have to go, I’m busy. Yes. No.” He sighed, then hung up, placing the phone face down on the table before standing up and turning to Ezra. “Sorry, new intern. Not terribly bright, I’m afraid.” He then turned to Anthony with a smile. “You must be the one he’s seeing since you are definitely not the bloke he was meeting.”

“AJ Crowley,” Anthony let go of Ezra’s hand to offer his own.

“Crowley?” Lucas repeated, still grinning but with less body. “I believe I’ve worked with a man who had that name in my early years. A right prick.”

“Probably was if his name was James,” Anthony said, a charming smirk crawling up his face. 

That surprised a chuckle out of Lucas, whose grin became full and bright again. “Oh, I like you.” He said, then gestured to the booth. “Please, let’s have a seat.”

Ezra glanced at Anthony before sliding in first, Anthony going in beside him as Lucas also sat down.

“You said you wanted to, umm… talk.” Ezra started, trying not to fidget too much.

“Yes,” Lucas said as if he suddenly remembered while he was there. He sat back, lounging with his arms over the back of the bench in a way that was very much like Anthony would. “My mum died recently.”

“Sorry for your loss,” Ezra replied, a knee-jerk reaction he couldn’t help at all.

“Thank you,” Lucas replied a little solemnly at first, then he became thoughtful. “We weren’t terribly close. We were all sort of estranged, to be honest, and I hadn’t spoken to her in years. But her death sort of brought our family together, sorta made us realize we should be there for each other.”

Ezra heard Anthony hum beside him and glanced over. “Siblings are funny like that.” He said, and Ezra reared his head back.

 _Siblings,_ he wanted to say. _You don’t have any siblings._

“They are, aren’t they?” Lucas seemed to quite like Anthony, which was only setting Ezra more on edge. “Well, I’m still not fond of mine, for the most part.” He then turned to Ezra, “But I remembered Eliza was. She was so very, very fond of you, I recall. It made me a bit disappointed we never met before she and I broke up.”

“Were you?” Ezra asked, not unkindly.

“I was. And I remember her saying your mother was quite ill.”

“She was, yes.” Ezra nodded, just growing more confused.

“Well,” Lucas rubbed his hands together. “Given how things went with my family, I realized that it was nice to have them around. And, I thought, well, maybe the spawn-”

“Adam?” Ezra questioned.

Lucas waved him off. “Yes, him. See, I thought I would get in touch with Eliza, see if everything was alright. If maybe she or….”

“Adam,” Ezra said again, with more emphasis, then glanced at Anthony.

“M gonna….” Anthony said, flapping his hands about before getting up and heading to the counter.

“The boy,” Lucas conceded. “But when I got the return notice that she was deceased, and there was no one left for him but you. Well, I thought maybe the boy….”

“Adam,” Ezra said forcefully, trying very hard to comprehend how it was so difficult for this man to just say a bloody name. “His name is Adam. If you want him-”

“What?!” Lucas cut him off, looking so utterly terrified it zapped all of the indignation, all the fear right out of Ezra, leaving only confusion. “No, no, no, no, no, no!”

“Sorry, I thought-”

“No!” Lucas said a bit too loudly, drawing some looks from others, and getting Anthony to turn quite abruptly. He seemed ready to run back across the cafe, so Ezra held up a hand to stay him.

Lucas glanced about, smiled at strangers, trying to assure them while his eyes were still wild with panic. “No,” he repeated, much lower this time.

“Alright,” Ezra said calmly.

“I don’t want the spawn, I never wanted him. There is a _reason_ why Eliza and I split up. She did want him, and I really, truly, do _not_.” Lucas put his hands flat on the table to emphasize his point, but softly so as not to draw more attention.

Relief rushed through Ezra so powerfully that it actually made him nauseated. He took a breath, then another, trying to calm his stomach and tame his growing smile as best he could.

“So… so, if you don’t want him, then why… why track us down?”

“Ah,” Lucas said, giving a self-deprecating laugh. “I can, well, I suppose I can see why you would think that. No, see, I’m… well when you don’t have a lot of family, I imagine it’s hard to find someone to lean on in tough times.” He started as Anthony came back, sliding into the booth, setting a paper cup in front of Ezra.

“Yes,” Ezra said, glancing at Anthony and knowing he was worried. Even with the glasses, there were tells, and Ezra could see it in the lines of his face as Anthony handed him his tea. 

“Well, for better or worse, we’re family,” Lucas said, gesturing between them. “There is a… child,” he said the word like it was bitter. “And he shares DNA from me as well as from you, sort of. We are family, and family are there for each other.”

“And you _don’t_ want to take up your role as Adam’s father?” Ezra repeated, and Anthony nearly choked on his beverage.

“No,” Lucas replied emphatically, handing Anthony a napkin. “No, if I’m anything, it’s…. A distant relative of sorts. Someone who just pops up if either of you needs a hand maybe funds his college education. Buys him a car on his sixteenth, or bails him out of jail or something,” Lucas suggested, both he and Ezra ignoring Anthony’s snort at the word “jail”. Lucas added on, “The uncle dad to your papa uncle if you will.” 

“You really don’t want to fight Ezra for him?” Anthony asked in disbelief.

Lucas smirked. “I was a cocky bastard six years ago. Truly believed that a condom or the pill, and my vehement desire to never have children would be enough to prevent procreation. Liza proved me wrong. I quite promptly booked an appointment to get snipped so it would never occur again.”

Anthony full-body flinched, and Ezra rubbed his leg in an attempt to soothe him.

“I must say, it’s a relief to hear you say all this,” Ezra told Lucas, grinning wider with every word. “I was an absolute wreck every time this meeting crossed my mind.”

“I’m truly sorry for causing you distress. If I’d known it would have, I probably would have just told that purple-eyed bloke in the pub the other night to shove off. Honestly, you seemed so calm, I thought you would have known.” Lucas took a drink of whatever it was he had had since they sat down and grimaced at it. “I was sure Liza would have told you how very opposed I was to the whole thing.”

“She only mentioned you’d split up, and that you wouldn’t be around.” Ezra shook his head. “And that she wanted Adam.”

“He isn’t Adam Lucas, or anything of the sort, right?” Lucas cringed.

“No, he has our father’s name for his second,” Ezra assured.

“Oh, good. Well.” Lucas checked his watch. “I should be heading back to London. I apparently have an idiot intern who will lose me my case if I don’t go and set things right. And, possibly, my date for the evening if he fucks up too badly.”

They all stood, Anthony, shuffling out of the booth again to make way for Ezra. When they were all on their feet, Lucas offered Ezra his hand. “If you need anything, either of you, you have my card,” Lucas said.

“I do, thank you.” Ezra replied, then added, “Perhaps I’ll send a card at Christmas. I do believe distant relatives do that.”

“Sounds wonderful,” Lucas said, and Ezra suspected he didn’t mean it but smiled anyway. He then offered his hand to Anthony, they shook, and then Lucas left the cafe.

Ezra promptly collapsed in the booth with a sigh.

Anthony slid across from him. “How’re you doing, angel?” He asked, reaching across the table for his hand.

Ezra took a moment to gather his thoughts, putting his hand in Anthony’s to anchor himself. “Overly relieved, utterly baffled, shocked.” He listed. “Grateful,” he added as he looked across at Anthony. 

He smiled, “I’ve gotta say, I’m surprised.”

Ezra frowned. “Why is that, dear?”

“Well,” Anthony shrugged. “When I talked to dad the other day, he made it sound like we’d need to come up with a legal plan. But, suppose I can’t really compare him with… that.” He said, gesturing to the door. “I can’t believe he doesn’t want anything to do with his own kid, I just can’t imagine.”

Ezra hummed, then frowned. “Wait, your dad? You spoke to your _dad_ about all this? How would he have any idea what to expect?”

Anthony blushed, rubbing the back of his neck, clearing his throat. “Yeah, I… I didn’t mean… James.” 

Ezra frowned deeper. “What do you…?”

“Remember the doctor who was there at A&E? The one mum told me to forget about?” Anthony asked, nearly sounding innocent but missing the mark.

Ezra’s jaw dropped. “No!”

“Yeah,” Anthony was proud, there was no mistaking it despite how much he was trying to look sheepish.

“Why? How?” Ezra began.

“My… youngest half-brother, Terry, he needed a transplant. It happened that I was a perfect match, despite only sharing one parent.” Ezra gaped at him a moment before removing his hand from Anthony’s and smacking his arm. “Ow! What the hell, angel?”

“A few new tattoos and a couple of exes!” Ezra’s voice pitched, nearly going shrill as he tried not to out-right yell. “Nothing serious!?”

“Right,” Anthony said as he seemed to remember what he told Ezra the week before. “In my defense, I was a bit high on kissing you and knowing it wasn’t going to blow everything up.”

“You have _siblings_ , Anthony. A _father_ you acknowledge, and this is only coming up now!?”

“Alright, yes, I get it. I’m sorry.” Anthony placated, and Ezra calmed down. “Would you like to hear about them?”

“Please,” Ezra said, taking a deep breath, in and out, then chased it with a hearty sip of tea.

“Christine is twenty-something. Six or seven, I can never remember. Married, first child on the way. Neil is in his fourth year at uni, so twenty-four. He's the smartest of all of us, big astronomy fan, we bonded over stargazing. And then Terry, who’s now eighteen. He’s decided to work instead of getting his A-levels, and Dad - Tony - was all for it. He’s supportive like that.”

“When did you get to know them?” Ezra asked, his heart bursting and breaking with this new piece of Anthony.

“After Terry’s surgery.” Anthony replied. “Tony decided if I was willing to step in and be there for them, James be damned, then he could do the same for the same reasons. He knew who I was when he met us at A&E that day. Mum was against it, at first. But she’s warmed up to it. James doesn’t know.”

“So they know about Warlock?” Ezra asked carefully.

“Ah… dad does. Even mum doesn’t know who Lock’s mum is. Crissy, Neil, Terry, they know Lock, but they don’t call him their nephew around him. Lock, well, I’m sure Adam’s the same way, doesn’t know when not to talk about something. So, he doesn’t know they’re his family. Not yet, anyway.”

Ezra shook his head slowly, feeling like he was trying to gather his scattered wits. “You have a whole, second family.”

“And it seems you’re building your own,” Anthony said, tilting his head briefly toward the door. “One weird uncle at a time.”

“Seems so.” Ezra agreed. He sighed. “I know we were supposed to go on a date tonight, but would you be terribly opposed to making it an afternoon affair? I may have slept last night, but I still feel utterly drained, and if we go home now, I may not want to come back out later.”

Anthony lit up, blushing and smiling, and it took a moment to realize he referred to Anthony’s house as home. Again. 

But then, it wasn’t really the place. He was beginning to understand it was the people there, the boys, their boys if he allowed himself to think on it. It’s where Anthony resided, and at a stretch, it’s where Anathema was waiting for them.

“Yeah, afternoon date sounds… fantastic. Really let’s… let’s do this. Get lunch here, or… somewhere else. Walk in the park. Can have dinner at home later, the four of us, yeah? A family dinner. Not… not like _family_ , family. Just, you know. The Crowleys. The Fells. Together. Respective… families… together.”

“Anthony, do hush,” Ezra said, picking up Anthony’s hand and kissing his knuckles. “You’ll hurt yourself.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was a fast update as I've had a lot of writing time this week and over last weekend.  
> We will be going to the past next chapter.  
> Until then!
> 
> Chapter TItle from "Say It Now" by We the Kings


	18. I'm Not the One if We're Honest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You might need tissues?

**2006**

“Good morning,” Oscar said softly behind him, and Ezra grinned a little.

“Good morning,” He replied, feeling Oscar’s lips on his tattoo. For someone who was sure he would hate the thing, Ezra found Oscar was constantly drawn to it. “I’m thinking of getting another one, you know.” He said to make conversation despite it being so early.

Oscar tensed behind him. “Really?” he asked, a hitch in his voice that Ezra learned meant he was trying to be supportive of something he disapproved of. “They’re permanent, you know.”

“Yes, I was aware of that, dear,” Ezra said, rolling over on his back so he could face Oscar. The bed was small, at least it seemed small with the two of them in it, and it took some maneuvering.

They were in Oscar’s flat in Edinburgh, Ezra having gone up to see him during the few days where their autumn breaks overlapped. Since he took up a job the year before, Oscar couldn’t get away as much as he used to, and keeping the flat meant having to stay year-round.

There had been a discussion during the summer when Oscar spent two weeks in their hometown. It had been on a day when Ezra was working the library, something he still did on breaks and during the summer to earn a little extra (the same work did when he was on campus). They’d been outside on Ezra’s break when Oscar had asked if maybe Ezra wanted to break up, seeing as how their already limited time together was going to be reduced.

It was moments like this, laying in Oscar's bed about to reason with him why he wanted to do something silly like getting another tattoo with his hard-earned money, that made Ezra wonder why he was still holding on to him.

He loved him, he supposed. And Oscar was a good man, the sort of man that was hard to come by. Over the two years they’d been together, he was patient with Ezra. He never rushed him into anything he wasn’t ready for, just as he vowed he wouldn’t. He allowed Ezra to lead, and to explore what he wanted and didn’t between them.

And aside from the physical intimacy and affection, Oscar knew Ezra. He knew what he preferred to nibble, and what he liked to read. He knew Ezra wasn’t terribly fond of modern music, and only had any sort of technology because it was useful. He listened to Ezra, he liked Ezra’s friends and family (little as both were).

Ezra loved him. But looking into those beautiful brown eyes, seeing the tease in the grin on Oscar’s sleepy face, Ezra just wasn’t sure he was _in_ love with him.

“I would like to get one to honor my father, my family,” Ezra explained when he knew Oscar would listen. “I find them quite beautiful, whether they have meaning or not. And, as you know, I do love beautiful art. I could never get an entire limb covered with them, as some people do. I don’t think I would want that. But I do love them, and they aren’t nearly as painful as Anthony made it seem.”

“How many does he have now?” Oscar asked.

“Oh, just the three,” Ezra replied without a thought. “The ivy and snake, the demon wings and horn, and he recently got a small little snake by his right ear. I was quite nervous about him getting that one, being a facial piece, and all, but it actually suits him quite nicely. Hardly glaringly obvious.”

Oscar hummed, almost sounding like he agreed with Ezra if it weren’t for the frown.

“Risky, though,” Oscar said. “Future employment and all. He’s taking business, right? That might be a problem with firms, especially if he goes the way of his dad and does trading and investments.”

“Actually, I think Anthony wants to do something on his own. Just last week when we had a few too many he was going on about opening a flower shop. He’s always had a green thumb, so I suppose that isn’t odd. Did I mention he’s working in the greenhouse this year? Later starter with botany as an elective after he realized he wasn’t going to be able to do what he’d like with the astronomy stuff.”

“Mmmm.” Oscar hummed, and Ezra didn’t know what he was reacting to.

He blushed. “I’ve been talking an awful lot this morning, haven’t I?” Ezra asked.

“You have,” Oscar nodded. “And normally I love to listen to you ramble on about whatever you desire. But your train leaves in three hours, and then I’m not going to see you again for a few months, so….” Oscar kissed his neck, just at the junction where it met his shoulder, causing Ezra’s eyes to flutter shut and all the air to leave his lungs. “I thought, if it’s alright with you, I could….”

“Oh, yes,” Ezra agreed, turning his head to kiss Oscar, and allow things to progress as they would.

~*~

“How was Edinburgh, Sunshine?” Gabriel asked, plopping down next to Ezra on the bench outside in the common area.

He’d been sitting there a while, not waiting for anyone, a book open on his lap and ignored. There was a cup of cocoa, barely still warm but not so awful that Ezra could keep sipping it.

“Damp,” Ezra replied without looking at Gabriel, his brow still in the furrow it formed when he began to let his mind wander.

“Boyfriend treat you well?” Gabriel asked, sounding concerned.

“Oscar was lovely. He’s always lovely.” Ezra replied, then turned to his violet-eyed friend. “I’m just not sure lovely is what I want.”

Gabriel’s eyes widened. “Ah… wha-… are you two…?”

“No, no not at all. He asked me again, as he always does these days if I’m sure I’m okay with our distance. And I am, for as long as I’ve known Oscar, we have been a bit apart. He was finishing his A-levels when we met, you see. That’s like your senior year, I believe. And… he asked me more than I can count if I would consider a date with him. It took me two years to agree, and by then we’d known each other nearly as well as Anthony and I do.”

“What happened?” Gabriel asked. “Did you guys just jump right in?”

“In a way,” Ezra conceded. “He kissed me for the first time an age before I finally agreed to a date. And, I must admit, I believe that actually did what he hoped it would.”

Gabriel smirked, “It got your attention.”

“I suppose that’s a way to put it.” Ezra smiled. “But that’s all there was until I was ready. For more, I mean. He’s patient, Oscar. Which makes him lovely. I just worry I will keep him waiting for me forever.”

Gabriel seemed more perplexed. “He has you, the lucky bastard.”

Ezra giggled. “I mean waiting for me to catch up to him, to where he is.” He bit his lip, glancing about. “Normally I would talk to Anthony or Eliza about this. But I know he’s terribly busy, and Eliza’s just too far away at the moment. But you and I have been great friends these last few years, haven’t we?”

Gabriel twisted on the bench as if to give even more of his undivided attention to Ezra. He clapped his hands, rubbing them together eagerly before putting them out to the side in an open gesture.

“Lay it on me,” He said.

Ezra sighed, looking around again, seeing they were definitely alone. “We were…,” he blushed. “Well, we were having sex, if I’m to be frank.”

Gabriel turned a bit pale for a moment but nodded for Ezra to continue.

“It was wonderful, as it usually is. But when he… when he climaxed, he told me… I’m not even sure if he meant for me to hear him, but he told me he loves me.”

“Oh,” Gabriel frowned.

“We’ve never said that,” Ezra said softly. “He’s called me ‘love’, and we have said something near it very frequently. I adore you, for instance. I’m glad we’re together, or I’m glad I’m with you. But to say love? To say _that_ .” Ezra shook his head. “My father, he had only loved two women his whole life, his first wife and my mother. Mum said it took him nearly two years of courting her that he loved her. He wanted to be sure, she said. It’s been three between Oscar and I, and I think I could love him, as in be _in_ love with him. I just need time.”

“Ezra,” Gabriel said thoughtfully. “Do you think, maybe, it’s just going to be a case where you aren’t going to _ever_ be in love with him?”

“Oh,” Ezra said, looking away. “I had hoped no one else would think that.”

“Why?” Gabriel asked, his hand coming down on Ezra’s shoulder, his thumb running a circle around the curve of it.

“Because I was beginning to think that, myself. And how wretched would I be if I wasted his time all these years?”

“Sunshine, he loves you. He told you as much, even if he doesn’t realize. How was he… after?”

“The same as always,” Ezra replied thoughtfully. “We kissed, held each other, murmured to each other. He didn’t ask or seem to expect anything more from me.”

“Then,” Gabriel sighed, and Ezra turned toward him again. Gabriel grinned sadly. “If it were me? I may not have been able to help but tell you that I love you. And I would probably wait as long as it took for you to feel it back.”

Ezra wasn’t sure that’s what he wanted to hear. “Have you ever been in love, Gabriel?” He asked.

Gabriel blushed. “I… may have been.”

“And what happened to the gentleman? Or lady? I’m being presumptuous.”

Gabriel frowned, settling back on the bench and putting his hands on his knees. He puffed his cheeks and blew out a puff of air. “Well, the first time I thought I was in love was with another guy. But, well, it wasn’t really something that was done where I grew up. At least, I thought. My mom and dad were okay with it, I suppose. They didn’t toss me out or anything. But there are always questions as to whether or not I found a nice girl over here. But the guy, the first guy? He was a nerdy sorta fella. Shy, quiet, kept to himself. Got teased a lot. I didn’t know him at first, and I don’t know what possessed me to talk to him, to hang out with him, but I did. We didn’t have a lot in common, but there was just something about him I liked, and I had to keep talking to him. I guess we became friends.”

“What happened?” Ezra asked.

Gabriel shrugged. “He was pulled out of school. His mother decided to home school him his last few years, and she ended up limiting who got to talk to him. Eventually, we lost touch, even in a small town. But if anyone asks, I think he was my first love.”

“That’s actually rather tragic,” Ezra said sadly, looking over the grounds and swallowing the lump in his throat with a gulp of tepid cocoa.

Gabriel shrugged. “I suppose it is.”

“I’m not sure Anthony’s ever been in love,” Ezra said when it seemed the silence would stretch. “Deeply infatuated, for absolute certain. But I don’t know if he’s been in love.”

“I’m not sure how that’s possible,” Gabriel said softly, and Ezra turned a frown toward him.

“What do you-”

“Hey!” Anthony cried, his arms coming around Ezra within the same second and causing the blonde to yelp. He also managed to slosh the remainder of his cocoa on the concrete path, thankfully well away from the bench and everyone’s trousers.

With a grumble he didn’t mean, Ezra tossed the empty paper cup into the trashcan next to the bench then clasped Anthony’s arms.

“You fiend,” He said, tilting his head back and grinning at his friend. There was an urge to stretch his face up those last few inches and kiss Anthony.

“Missed you,” Anthony said, pressing his forehead to Ezra’s for a few seconds before lifting his head and letting Ezra go. He walked around the bench and sat on the thin, metal arm that couldn’t have been comfortable even on someone as slim as him.

“I missed you as well. I brought you some scotch, it’s back in my room.” Ezra replied, craning his neck to look at Anthony’s serpentine eyes.

“Oh, you’re an angel. Not surprising.” Anthony grinned at his own little quip. “Oscar give you hell about it?”

“No, not entirely. Only in the brand you chose this go around. He said it was infinitely inferior to your previous choice.”

“What’s he know?” Anthony countered. “Man puts pepper on his chips. Only good thing he has taste in is you.”

“Thank you, dear,” Ezra replied, turning to give Gabriel a grin so he would feel included. He then turned back to Anthony. “Have you ever been in love?” Ezra asked him curiously.

“Yes,” Anthony replied without hesitation. “Gabe, you want to try some of the scotch I got Ezra to grab? See if his bloke is wrong?”

“Did I have any of the last one for comparison?” Gabriel asked.

“Yeah, but it was after those shot things that that girl from your economics class made. Those were awful.”

“Well, let’s give it a go, then?” Gabriel said, standing up as Anthony got to his feet. “Come on, sunshine.”

Ezra got to his feet, closing his book and tucking it to his side.

Anthony had been in love? When? With _who_? Certainly not Fredrick, right?

**2007**

**~C~**

“What do you mean he says this is going to be my last year here?” Anthony asked his mother over the phone, standing outside a pub a couple of weeks into September.

Erica Crowley sighed. “He says you’ve done better than he thought you would, but your father says he expects you to work on your Masters in London like he did. Where you can intern like he did.” And then, more quietly, she added, “You came home last with a tattoo on your face, Anthony, what did you expect he’d do?”

“In fairness, I’d had the tattoo since well before Christmas. He’s just never fucking around to notice.” Anthony snapped back, dragging a hand down his face and glancing inside.

Ezra was watching him, clearly worried as Erica Crowley wasn’t one to call her son unless something happened. The last time was near the end of May to inform him her father had passed away. Seeing as Anthony didn’t know his grandparents all that well, he was oddly detached for the whole thing, but Ezra had still doted on him in case he needed extra comfort.

“Anthony,” Erica said more gently this time. “I know you’re an adult, and I know you can make your own choices. And frankly, given everything, I’m surprised a subtle tattoo on your face is the worst you’ve done. But are you really going to benefit from staying there next year? I do hear the master’s program is better in the city.”

“Yeah, but,” he glanced back through the window, heart twisting in his chest. “I won’t know anyone there.”

 _London doesn’t have Ezra_ , he thought. Ezra, who already had a spot lined up for _next_ September to be a TA. Who had already put in his application to continue on and was tentatively accepted as he was top of his classes with the exception of one or two throughout his entire time.

Anthony wasn’t as much of a shoo-in this time. Grades were good, but they were upper-middle for the most part.

Erica laughed lovingly. “Anthony, you are one of the most charismatic people in the world. You’ll be fine. I do think what you mean is that you won’t have one particular person.”

Anthony sighed. “Yeah.”

“Honey, I love you. But maybe it’s time to let go of that crush.” Erica said gently.

“Yeah.”

“And you know what your dad said about boys.”

“Not to fuck them?” Anthony asked bitterly.

“Don’t be crude.” She chided. “But yeah, if you want your trust fund.”

“What if I don’t?”

“Don’t be stupid,” Erica said quietly and gently. “It might be set up under his family name, but I contributed to it, too. Don’t let that go to waste.”

“I just won’t get caught,” Anthony said thoughtfully. “Not like he put a tracker on my-”

“Anthony.” She warned, and he chuckled.

“Yeah, shut up, I get it.” Then looking at his feet, he asked, “Will he really stop paying for my studies if I don’t go to London next year?”

“Yes,” Erica said.

Anthony growled and threw his head back. “Fine,” He bit out. “But just so you know, this ruined a perfectly wonderful night out.”

“Love you too, Anthony,” Erica said. There was a beep in the background, the sound of her pager, perhaps. “I have to go. I’m on call.”

“Alright, mum. Talk to you later.” He hung up, pocketing his phone, and hung his head.

Anthony turned and looked inside the window, catching sight of Ezra laughing happily with something Gabriel said, a couple of the others they knew and hung around with from time to time chuckling as well.

And just like that, it was like an invisible hourglass had suddenly turned, the sand slowly starting to trickle out from the top to the empty bottom. Counting down the hours, minutes, seconds he had left before - for the first time in their very long friendship - Ezra wouldn’t be just around the corner from him. He wouldn’t be a quick walk away. He’d be a phone call or an e-mail. And while Ezra had shown with Oscar how well he could handle the distance, there was only so much time in a day. He would talk to Oscar while still spending time with Anthony, but that would change, wouldn’t it?

If it came down to a choice between him and Oscar, Anthony knew in his battered, breaking heart that Oscar would win. Ezra had been with him for over three years, now, and it didn’t look like there was going to be an end in sight.

Maybe that was the glimmer of good in all this. Maybe distance from Ezra might allow Anthony to finally let him go and move on.

~*~

“I’m in love,” Ezra swooned, and Anthony rolled his head to look at him.

They were snuggled up together (though if anyone were to ask, they were merely huddled) on Anthony’s bed in his dorm. Tucked under the blanket on a Saturday night, as they had been almost every weekend since Anthony had been told he would have to leave for London if he wanted to continue going to school.

He still wasn’t sure he wanted to bend to his father’s whims quite that much. Perhaps he would simply leave Oxford and find work? But then, he wanted to own a shop one day. A florist or a nursery, or something. He hadn’t quite figured that bit out yet.

But until then, until he had to think of a plan, he was going to enjoy these evenings with Ezra, hidden away from the parties and the gatherings, just the two of them. Well, the two of them, a bottle of wine, some popcorn, and apparently Mr. Darcy.

He should have known Ezra would go for a Mr. Darcy. Probably why he’d had a feeling of _knowing_ throughout the film.

“Exactly what about _that_ scene made you say ‘I’m in love’?” Anthony asked him as Elizabeth Bennett sighed and took a couple of steps back from where Darcy had proposed, hugging herself in the rain.

Ezra swooned again. “He’s just so terribly romantic,” Ezra said, reaching over Anthony to the bedside table to use the mouse to pause the film. “Don’t get me wrong, Colin Firth is still what one might call the superior Mr. Darcy. His material was far closer to the source, his costuming probably closer to accurate than this gentleman. And one cannot dispute the whole scene of him emerging from the water.”

“Ah, yes,” Anthony quietly agreed, more for the sake of pretending to participate than anything. He just loved watching Ezra ramble on a topic, any topic, he had an opinion on.

“He’s got that more stern, severe attitude about him. Oh, but this gent… this gent is quite… something.”

“Quite something?” Anthony repeated, smirking wildly. “What did Oscar think of all this swooning?”

“What do you mean?” Ezra asked.

“Well, this can hardly be the first time you’ve seen this, it came out, like, two years ago now.”

Ezra frowned. “Did it? You know I’m not much for films. You’ve always been the person I watch them with the most. Eliza’s far too interested in that… what do they call it? Reality TV. Mum would have watched this, I’m sure, but probably wouldn’t have thought for us to watch it together.”

“So… what is it that you and Oscar do, then? Do I want to know?”

“We read together,” Ezra said sheepishly. “Occasionally, though very rarely, will we watch something. But he likes the theater more than film, so he tends to save up to take us to a show when I visit, or when he comes down.”

“Suppose that’s nice,” Anthony said, nodding a bit, thinking of how he probably should do the same with Ezra a few times before he was too far away to do it on a whim. “Do you want to continue?”

“Oh! Yes, let’s.” Ezra enthused, wiggling a little, snuggling up just a bit more to Anthony.

Anthony resumed the movie this time, and since the popcorn was mostly gone, he moved it from their laps to the bedside table. With it out of the way, he settled his arm in the space it was before and found Ezra’s arm looping around his.

A part of him wanted to point out that this wasn’t exactly how most male friends would watch a movie. The rest of him decided it was better not to say a word. It wasn’t like Oscar hadn’t seen them in nearly the same position a few times, and if he had had a problem with it, something would have been said by now, wouldn’t it?

Mind, they weren’t normally sharing a very small space, nor were they usually covered in a blanket.

Anthony found almost as much enjoyment catching glimpses of Ezra’s reactions out of the corner of his eye as he had of the film. All the years they’d known one another, done this very thing, he hardly ever remembered Ezra reacting quite so strongly to any actor or character.

He had his favorites, of course, but there was never a rhyme or reason to them, and hardly ever did he swoon quite so much. Ezra seemed to grow increasingly tense as the ending drew near. They’d read the book for English at one point, of course, and Anthony knew well what the visit from the aunt meant. He was just surprised that Ezra was getting that excited over it.

“Oh dear lord, the billow.” He said when the shot of Mr. Darcy walking across the field at sunrise came up. “Oh… oh my. That… is very inappropriate for the time period. Positively scandalous.” He paused, staring at the screen. “If Lizzy were any less of a woman, she’d have likely fainted on the spot.”

“Well, she isn’t exactly a ‘following the rules’ type, is she? Otherwise, she’d have married-”

“Shh!” Ezra hushed him by putting his hand firmly over Anthony’s lips.

Getting the hint, Anthony took Ezra’s hand off his mouth, though not before Ezra would be able to feel the smile. It seemed he didn’t care because Ezra didn’t look away. Anthony was fairly certain he didn’t even blink.

_“You must know, surely you must know it was all for you.”_

Something like recognition lit in Anthony’s mind.

_“…and it has taught me to hope as I'd scarcely allowed myself before. If your feelings are still what they were last April, tell me so at once. My affections and wishes have not changed. But one word from you will silence me forever.”_

Oscar. Vaguely, perhaps it was the voice, _this_ Darcy reminded Anthony of Oscar. And here he was, sitting cozily in bed with Ezra, who was absolutely enraptured by him. Whose eyes were beginning to mist, and he looked more love-struck than Anthony had ever seen him.

_“If, however, your feelings have changed... I would have to tell you, you have bewitched me, body and soul, and I love... I love... I love you. I never wish to be parted from you from this day on.”_

Ezra heaved a large, happy sigh, and Anthony threw his remaining wine back in one go.

“As far as deviations go, that was _wonderful_ ,” Ezra exclaimed, seeming to forget there would be a rest of the movie.

“Eh, if you were into that sorta thing.” Anthony tried to play it cool.

“Oh, my dear, how could you _not_ be? I know you like to appear aloof, and I realize it earns you a few hearts, but how could you not want someone to look at you that way, and say those sort of things, and truly mean it?”

Anthony frowned. “Suppose, when you have that sort of thing….”

“I suppose, when you put it like that, it is quite unrealistic. But I suppose that’s what makes the fiction so much better.”

“You’re really trying to tell me that Oscar doesn’t say things like that to you? All poetic and such?”

“Oscar says quite a few wonderful, poetic things to me.” Ezra agreed. “But, oh, nothing quite like that. I’m not even sure I’d be able to handle it if he did.”

That was odd. That was very, very odd. Anthony watched Ezra finish the movie, though this time he outright stared at him, trying to figure out what the hell he meant by that.

Oscar had been mad about Ezra for years, they all knew it. So, surely he proclaimed his everlasting love on a very regular basis, didn’t he? Maybe not Mr. Darcy in a field at sunrise in a billowing long coat and a nightshirt tucked into his trousers sort of proclamations, but surely he did something.

“How could I have gone two years without seeing this?” Ezra asked, finishing his own wine before reaching around Anthony again for the bottle.

“No idea, angel. Would’ve thought you’d have gone right away.” Anthony said as he held up his glass for Ezra to refill.

“I’m sure mum must have mentioned it, I honestly can’t see how she wouldn’t have. But it must have slipped my mind, or perhaps I thought she was speaking of something else. Either way, now I’m curious what else I might have missed along the same vein.”

“No, nah-ah, we’re doing a comedy next,” Anthony said immediately.

Ezra pouted. “It’s hardly like that was a tragedy.”

“Yes, but it was a very… romantic… thing,” Anthony replied as if the very idea of romance disgusted him.

By the frowning glare on Ezra’s face, he hadn’t forgotten how Anthony bawled a few weeks back through _The Notebook_. Which, of course, was also a tragedy, but he doubted he could argue that somehow in the moment.

“Can we please just watch something funny? Or, at the very least, low on the romance factor. Like _Oceans 11_. No Romance in _Oceans 11_.”

Ezra’s frown turned inquisitive. “With Frank Sinatra?”

Anthony shook his head. “How are we friends? No, not with Sinatra. There was another one made… five or six years ago now? I have it downloaded somewhere, hang on.”

Anthony cued it up, and for the rest of the night, the idea of Oscar and Ezra and all it did or didn’t entail was nearly, almost, slightly forgotten.

**2008**

~A~

“That was lovely,” Ezra said to Oscar as they lounged on Ezra’s tartan blanket, a gift from his mum at Christmas five months back.

Oscar had surprised him, taking the train down and planning a wonderful picnic at the Oxford Botanical Garden. He must have even gone through a great deal of effort to arrange everything, as Anthony refused to arrange a weekend in of movies and wine. And when Gabriel had quickly offered to do it if Anthony wouldn’t, the ginger man told Gabriel he certainly would not, and that had been that whenever Ezra attempted to bring up the subject.

And then last night, there had been a knock on his dorm room door. He’d expected Anthony and was surprised to find Oscar on the other side with an overnight bag.

They’d had breakfast at one of Ezra’s favorite local cafes. Then after a quick pop back over to the university, Anthony had handed Oscar a basket with Ezra’s tartan throw. He’d had a peculiar smile when they made the exchange, one Ezra wasn’t sure what to make of. He’d known Anthony for nearly ten years, and that smile was so bloody strange, he couldn’t make heads or tails of it. Perhaps he wasn’t feeling too well? Maybe there’d been an event that Ezra missed because of Oscar.

Not that he was complaining.

“I’m glad you liked it,” Oscar said before taking a sip of the bottled lemonade that had been in the basket. “Anthony said there was a pub you were very fond of, but they didn’t have the best picnic things so I did what I could.”

“Did you make all this, then? The sandwiches and the nibbles?”

Oscar chuckled. “Love, when have you ever known me to be anything close to competent in regards to food? You have to make the tea when you visit, otherwise, I serve you ‘pond scum’, as you say.”

Ezra giggled. “Alright, then. So, is it Anthony that we have to thank?”

“No,” Oscar replied. “He just pointed me to the University cafe and I picked it and packed it while you were helping that first year before breakfast.”

“Well, thank you. It was scrumptious, probably made more so by the atmosphere and the company.” Ezra said, placing his hand on Oscar’s, smiling at him.

“It is quite lovely here,” Oscar agreed, looking at the foliage around them.

“Very much so. Anthony and I came for the first time during our first year. We’ve sort of made a tradition out of it. As soon as it’s warmer, and not too terribly rainy, we make a day of it.”

Oscar set the bottle of lemonade down and shifted toward Ezra, getting as close as he could get. “He did say you liked it. Which is good, because I was trying really hard to figure out how I could do this sort of thing in the library.”

Ezra giggled. “A picnic in the library?”

“Well, we did first meet in a library. Might not have been the Oxford university library, but one nonetheless.”

“What are you going on about, darling?” Ezra asked, shaking his head fondly.

Oscar smiled, shifting on to his knees and taking Ezra’s hands in his. “Are you alright with the distance, love? I’m not sure I’ll be able to get work here, so it may mean more time apart while you get your masters.”

Ezra furrowed his brow, “It’s fine Oscar. As long as you’re still happy with the arrangement.”

“I could be happier,” Oscar admitted.

“Well, I suppose we both could, really.” Ezra agreed.

“I’d like to not feel the need to ask you every time we see one another if you’re going to continue being alright with this,” Oscar said softly, letting go of one of Ezra’s hands to cup his cheek. “I would like to have some amount of confidence you aren’t going to slip away from me.”

“Oscar,” Ezra said just as softly. “You must know I won’t? After all this time.”

“I suppose one would think that after all this time, and all the temptations that’s been before you, that you staying around would be enough.” Oscar grinned. “But I think there is one more thing that might reassure me.”

Ezra’s heart began to race, and he had to work hard to maintain his steady breathing. This was it, the moment he’d been bracing for, what most people in nearly four-year-long relationships would have done so much earlier.

“I love you, Ezra Fell,” Oscar said, voice heavy with emotion.

“Oh, Oscar,” Ezra grinned, knowing after much self-reflection that this was something he would be able to say. That he would be able to _mean_ , which was much more important.

“I’ve known you love me, too, for a while. And I remember everything you told me about your dad, which is why I never needed you to say it to _know_ you felt it. He was a romantic sort of man, and it’s so clear you have that in you, too.”

“Oh,” Ezra said, very near pouting at having the wind taken out of his sails.

“It’s also why I waited until this moment to say it out loud to you myself. Well, I’m sure I’ve slipped a time or two, but I’m not sure you ever heard me.”

Ezra gave a nervous chuckle, beginning to notice that there were people around them half watching. No one he knew, of course, which was of some relief. But he really didn’t like the idea of drawing too much attention to themselves. Not everyone was open-minded, and while it never happened to them, he’d heard stories from others.

Oscar didn’t seem to notice or care. “Ezra?”

“Yes,” He said, snapping back to attention. “Of course, darling, I’ve-”

“Will you marry me?”

Ezra’s mouth hung open for a second.

“Will I… what?” He asked.

“Marry me?” Oscar repeated, his smile only growing, his eyes all the more adoring.

“Oh,” Ezra replied, suddenly feeling all that attention that had been on them before. He glanced around. There were a lot of people pointedly not looking at them but their knowing grins said that they had certainly heard Oscar’s question. There were even a few strangers outright staring, watching with rapt glee. “Oh, I….” He blinked, looking down at the hand still holding his. Oscar’s right holding Ezra’s left like they would if they were to exchange vows.

“I know,” Oscar rushed to say, getting Ezra’s focus on him again, “I know that we can’t _technically_ get married. I know that it would be a civil partnership, but that’s not nearly as romantic.”

Ezra looked away again, to the tartan blanket, the basket of food.

“Did Anthony know? That you were doing this?” He asked because it seemed so surreal that he would. Somehow, he didn’t think Anthony would play along. Yes, he would want Ezra happy, of course. Ezra had known for an age that there wasn’t much Anthony wouldn’t do for his happiness and that the feeling was mutual. And he just couldn’t imagine Anthony handing off the basket and Ezra’s cherished Fell tartan throw, knowing what it would all lead up to.

“No,” Oscar said, the joy slowly leaving his tone. “Does… does that make a difference?”

“No,” Ezra replied quickly, “it’s just… well, I think he would have talked you out of this if he’d known.”

“Why?” Oscar asked, clearly starting to get worried.

Ezra glanced around them again and noted that the few people who had been listening in before were now trying even harder not to look at them. The group who were staring were grimacing.

“Oscar this… this is _very_ public. And, well, it’s… it’s too much. I… you only just said you love me. And, I love you, but I’m….”

“Ezra,” Oscar said gently but firmly.

Ezra swallowed, then forced himself to meet Oscar’s gaze as the tears began to blur his vision.

There was no more joy in Oscar’s features. And, Ezra realized, until this moment he wasn’t sure he’d ever seen his beau so sad. “It’s no, isn’t it?”

Ezra immediately went to say “no”, that of course, it wasn’t a no, not really. Just, not right now. Not here. Not….

Maybe not ever.

“I do love you,” He said emphatically. “I do, I do love you. So much.”

“Just not enough,” Oscar whispered.

“I’m sorry.” Ezra squeezed his hand. “I’m so sorry, you truly have no idea how sorry I am, dar-,” he swallowed. “Dear.”

Oscar nodded. “Ezra, I… I love you, and I want to say I’ll wait until you’re ready. But… I waited for you for two years, until you felt ready to date. And I waited gladly. I never had a problem waiting for you to be ready for anything more between us, at any time. If anything, the anticipation only made it that much better. But, I think… I think I’ve hit my limit.” He said this gently, kindly, without a hint of anger. “I don’t think this is something I can wait for.”

“I’m sorry,” Ezra said again.

“I know, I believe you.” Oscar nodded. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, looking down and around them. “Umm, I’m … I’m going to, uh… I’ll take the basket and go over… there, I think. Go walk around for a while. Uh… send me a text when I can grab my bag from your room.”

“So, this is it, then?” Ezra asked as they got to their feet. It felt odd, normal, to be collecting the blanket off the ground while Oscar picked up the basket, knowing that this was so far from the normal that Ezra had grown accustomed to.

“I don’t know how we can keep going,” Oscar confessed. “I think if, even if you didn’t want to right away, you would have said ‘yes’ if you wanted this with me. I swear, Ezra, I don’t doubt you love me.” He took a step to him, placing his hand on Ezra’s left shoulder, Oscar’s fingers caressing just where Ezra’s tattoo was. “I just think we’re both finally realizing you don’t love me quite enough.” He said with a sad smile, bending forward and placing a lingering kiss on Ezra’s forehead.

Ezra blinked back tears as Oscar stepped away and headed off deeper into the garden, further away from the exit, leaving him alone.

~C~

How would he do it?

Anthony had laid on his bed since giving Oscar the basket for the romantic picnic he surprised Ezra with, wondering how he’d end up proposing.

That’s what was happening, wasn’t it? It had been nearly four years, after all. And why else would someone go through such an effort to surprise their significant other? Make sure no one was around so that Ezra was in his room when he arrived. Asking about beautiful, romantic spots around Oxford that Oscar might not have known about. Asking about foods, what Ezra’s favorites were.

Maybe it was a bit petulant of Anthony to not play along, not to the degree Oscar probably wanted him to. But there was a green-eyed monster screaming and raging inside him, eating at his heart, and soul, and gut until Anthony couldn’t even think of drinking away the agony without wanting to throw up.

Was there going to be a ring?

Would he have to stand by Ezra as he married someone else? Worse, would Ezra ask Anthony to give him away in some way? He couldn’t. He wouldn’t. He’d wish them well, congratulate them, but he would never be able to give Ezra up in any way. He didn’t think he had it in him.

He wasn’t terribly surprised when there was a knock on his door, one that repeated seconds after the first and with much more intensity. Excited, Anthony wagered. He could picture Ezra on the other side of the door, practically vibrating with giddiness, ready to gush to him about the whole thing.

Anthony opened the door with a smile on his face, ready to receive the abundance of joy. It fell instantly at the lost look on Ezra’s face.

“Angel?” he asked, worrying.

“We’ve broken up, I think.” He stated matter-of-factly. “It wasn’t explicitly stated, but I think it’s pretty much implied when one turns down the offer of marriage made that the relationship really can’t go any further.”

Anthony blinked. “You said no?”

“I love him,” Ezra said to Anthony, meeting his eye and looking all the world like someone who was desperate to be believed. “I love him, I do. I love him.”

Anthony stepped aside and Ezra went inside. He shut the door, standing beside it, giving Ezra space as he moved to Anthony’s bed and sat down on the edge of it.

Ezra put his elbows on his knees and bent his head, placing his face in his hands.

For a moment, Anthony felt lost. Then, he went over to the bed and sat down beside Ezra, putting his arm around him.

“How can you love someone and it not be enough?” Ezra asked quietly.

“I don’t know,” Anthony replied. Ezra looked up at him, his blue eyes sad but without tears. “I don’t know, angel.” Anthony swallowed. “Do you… did you want to marry him? Someday?”

Ezra gave a mirthless snort. “What is wrong with me that I’d never even considered it. You know, I never told you the first time I heard Oscar say he loved me. We were having sex, and I don’t think he knew I heard him.”

“Must not be very loud, then,” Anthony mumbled, earning a chuckle from Ezra.

“No, he was not a vocally passionate lover. I just assumed I suppose, that if he didn’t say it when he meant to, he wasn’t expecting me to say the same either. And I did a lot of self-reflection after that first time, figuring out if that’s how I felt for him. I determined that, well, maybe it wasn’t the sort of deep, all-consuming love I had hoped to have one day. But it was quiet, steady, reliable. I thought that’s what was happening in the garden this afternoon. I thought he was declaring he loved me. I could have handled that.”

“But marriage was a step too much?” Anthony asked.

Ezra glanced off to the side. “I hadn’t thought so. Not until I was in the garden with everyone watching, and I felt… nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“Nothing. No joy, no embarrassment. I suppose I _did_ feel confusion, but there was nothing I had hoped to feel during a marriage proposal. Not that I ever thought someone would want to marry me. Perhaps I just watched that ship sail off.” Ezra said thoughtfully, and Anthony was shaking his head before he even finished the sentence.

“No,” He said, pressing his forehead to Ezra’s and holding his gaze. “Some lucky bastard is going to get to be your husband one day.”

“Don’t you mean _I_ will get to be someone’s husband?” Ezra smirked.

“No, you are the one to covet, angel. The man you marry will be the luckiest sodding bastard in the whole damn world and nothing will change my mind about that.”

Ezra sighed. “Fine.” He said as he put his arms around Anthony. “I don’t think it’s settled in yet. I should be so much more distraught.”

“If you aren’t, it doesn’t mean anything,” Anthony said as he held Ezra in return. “No one will judge you for it.”

“I’ll have to tell mum and Eliza.” He said.

“Yeah, but you don’t have to yet. If they knew what Oscar was planning, they might not be expecting to hear from you right away.”

Ezra nodded against his head, and despite the circumstances, Anthony grinned for a second.

Then Ezra groaned, putting his head on Anthony’s shoulder. “This is a mess. What have I done?”

“Nothing wrong,” Anthony assured, leaning his head against Ezra’s. “You did nothing wrong, and neither did he.”

They didn’t talk for the rest of the afternoon, and Ezra never cried. They just stayed like that, comforting and seeking comfort until Ezra’s stomach grumbled, and they went to get a bite to eat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, you probably know where this is going. It's the past, after all. The next two chapters are 2019, though, so there's a buffer. Until next time!
> 
> Chapter title from "Talk Me Down" by Troye Sivan


	19. Our Lives Are Made in These Small Hours

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the first section of the fluff zone.

“So, everything’s alright, then?” Anathema asked Crowley quietly as Ezra went to the living area to call Gabriel, update him on how it went with Lucas. He’d texted while they were walking in a park that was more garden than anything, smelling the flowers and reminiscing how they used to do something similar in university. With, admittedly, a lot less hand-holding and a lot less kissing. Ezra had promised to call Gabriel back as soon as he was available, which turned out to be not until the evening just before tea time.

“The dad, Lucas, wants nothing to do with Adam in the parental sense.” Crowley nodded, smiling. “He just wants to support them if they need it.”

“Well, that’s a relief,” Anathema said, smiling over her shoulder at Ezra as he waved his hands happily about, explaining what happened over the phone. “Liza would have been rolling in her grave if the sperm donor decided he wanted to suddenly be involved.”

“No doubt,” Crowley agreed. “But now that’s done.”

“And yet, you guys _aren’t_ going out on a date to celebrate?” Anathema asked as she leaned across the island closer to him. 

Crowley smiled, “We did, though. Might not have been out at night, or what anyone would call terribly romantic, but it was great. Perfect, really. Very us, just… couple us. Because we’re a couple now.” He said, his grin stretching wider.

It did things. To his brain, to his heart, to his… well, it did things, saying that about Ezra. A more crystal clear picture of a future so similar to the one in the sushi restaurant over a week ago. Where the kitchen he was standing in with his good friend wasn’t just his, but his and Ezra’s. 

“Did you update the paperwork with the school?” Anathema asked quietly.

“With both the nursery and the elementary.” Crowley nodded, “Ezra’s now the official secondary contact for Lock.”

“So, what’s next?” Anathema asked with fake curiosity. “A thousand roses and a ring?”

Crowley snapped a “shush” in her direction that reminded himself a bit of a dragon. It only made Anathema that much more pleased with herself.

“For two guys who weren’t in touch with one another for ten years, you two are very married already.”

“Would you shut it?” He hissed quietly, realizing quite suddenly that Ezra was very quiet. He looked over, seeing he seemed to be listening to Gabriel and not paying attention to Anathema and Crowley at all. Taking a breath, Crowley told Anathema, “I hadn’t even told him about Tony. I never thought.”

“He didn’t know?” She asked, eyes wide.

“Well, he probably suspected a bit. He was there when I first met Tony, but back then, mum was still dead set on being quiet about it. Forgot I had a whole secret second family he didn’t know about. Sorta makes you wanna slow things down a bit. Because I am, I’m rushing through everything. Just… not even thinking.” He glanced over at Ezra, hearing him enthuse over something. “He makes me stupid.”

“No, you’re perfectly stupid on your own.” Anathema grinned. 

“Thanks for that,” He replied off-handed.

Crowley was too occupied watching Ezra end his call, then clutch his ancient phone in his hands and huff a pleased sigh. Then, the blonde came toward them, and Crowley hoped to someone Anathema would keep her mouth shut.

“Gabriel was quite relieved to hear that Lucas wanted to remain very hands-off,” Ezra said as he stood at the side of the island, placing his phone face down on the counter. “And then reminded me quite adamantly that he wanted to do something with Adam and I tomorrow night.”

Crowley cocked an eyebrow. “And what did you tell him?” He asked with a smirk.

“Ah, that,” Ezra blushed. “Yes, well. I couldn’t very well think of a valid reason to tell him no. Especially seeing as how he wanted to come to ours. Mine. The flat, I mean, that I share with Adam. Not… not ours, yours and mine, ours.” He then cleared his throat and turned to Anathema. “Will you be doing something with Newton now that you have the night free, my dear?”

“No,” She said simply. “Newt has a dungeons and dragons meeting tonight, or something along those lines. I, on the other hand, have a date.”

“No,” Crowley whined as Ezra reared back. “A date? Really?”

Anathema shrugged. “I slept with Newt a few times, tried to get him to go out with me on a date, but I’ve had as much luck as you two have.”

“And how did you arrange this date when you were supposed to be babysitting?” Crowley asked with a frown. Wagging his finger, he added, “No boys over, young lady.”

Anathema rolled her eyes. “After you called and said, ‘we don’t need you tonight, and we’re going to have our date now,’ that’s when.”

“What’s the chap’s name?” Ezra asked a bit stern sounding. 

Anathema looked him up and down as if measuring how he’d respond. “Blind date.”

“Tinder, you mean,” Crowley argued.

“No, actual blind date.” Anathema glowered. “Bea set us up. Some guy named Eric.”

Crowley groaned. “You haven’t met him, but I know who they set you up with. He’s new to the London shop. Which reminds me, I need to swing by there next week. I have a few meetings,” and then he turned to Ezra, “Which means I’m going to be late on Wednesday. So, would you mind terribly picking up Warlock as well? I know the bus is probably a pain with one child.”

“It’s fine dear, I would be happy to,” Ezra said as he reached out and put a hand over Crowley’s. Simple, intimate, enough to make him want to do a little jig at the idea that this would happen whenever, and it would _mean_ something now.

“Well, if you two are all sorted, I’m going to take off. Because whether this is a cruel joke on Bea’s part or a genuinely nice guy, I want to look nice.” Anathema said, moving around the island to place a kiss on both men’s cheeks before moving to the stairs. “Lock, Adam, your dads are here and I’m leaving.”

Crowley watched Ezra’s head lift a bit, his cheeks growing a pale pink as he seemed to stop breathing.

“Anathema, my dear girl,” he started to say nervously, but the thunder of footsteps coming toward them from above cut him off.

“Don’t run!” Crowley shouted up for what had to be the fifth or sixth time that day alone. He wondered, not for the first time if he should just pre-record him saying it and just play it over and over until it sunk in. The thunder did quiet a little, and there was no running on the stairs as both boys came down to give Anathema a hug before she left.

She shouted her farewells again on her way out the door, and there was a brief lapse in which everything was quiet.

“I thought you were going on a date?” Adam was the first to ask, Warlock merely watching and waiting for now.

“We already did,” Ezra informed him.

“Didn’t go well?” Warlock asked, his face partly scrunching up in what might be sympathy.

Crowley chuckled, “It went _really_ well,” he said as he came over and dropped his arm around Ezra’s shoulder. “We’re getting married next week.”

“Wicked.” The boys said in unison, breaking out into giggles when Ezra chuckled.

Crowley watched him a moment, over the moon that he wasn’t panicking at the idea. In fact, he was blushing a little and still seemed utterly beside himself with happiness.

“Well, perhaps not next week,” Ezra said, and Crowley’s face fell in shock. Ezra, however, didn’t seem to notice. “But I’m afraid I’ll be sticking around for a while if that will be alright?”

“Yeah, I like you.” Warlock replied with a shrug before his eyes got wide. “Hey! Does that mean we can have a birthday party together!?”

“Yeah!” Adam jumped up and down. “Can we, please? Lock and I, we? We would want a dinosaur party. With a cake, and balloons. And Brian, and Pepper, and Wensley from nursery could be there, and it would be so cool!”

“Oh, well,” Ezra glanced at Crowley and then did a double-take. “We’ll, umm, your dad and I will have a chat about it. In the meantime, perhaps maybe, you and Adam could go play and we’ll let you know when dinner is ready, will that be alright?”

“Can we have leftover pizza?” Adam asked.

“I don’t know, dear, maybe,” Ezra said, shooing them off. Once the boys went upstairs, he turned toward Crowley. “Darling, are you alright? Have I said somethi-”

Crowley cut him off with a kiss. An excellent way to shut Ezra up, he was growing to realize. Especially with those pleased little sounds coming from his throat before those well-manicured hands found their way to Crowley’s hair or his back. Crowley wound his arms around Ezra’s waist as he pulled back.

“I adore you.” He said, shaking his head. 

“And I adore you,” Ezra replied, sounding confused. 

Crowley grinned then stole a few more kisses.

“The boys will expect a meal soon,” Ezra said between pecks.

“Let them eat the leftovers,” Crowley replied like it was obvious.

“What about us?” Ezra asked.

“Got all I want here.”

“You’re a fiend.”

“Yes, I am,” Crowley said before kissing him again, smiling against his lips like an idiot in love.

Which, really, he was.

Enough he didn’t pay much mind to the noise overhead, or how it got louder before stopping altogether.

“Eeeew!” Warlock and Adam chorused before breaking out into giggles. 

Ezra broke the kiss with a chuckle, looking fondly around Anthony at the pair on the stairs.

“Kissing’s so gross.” Warlock said between fits of giggles.

“Disgusting.” Adam laughed in agreement.

“And one day the both of you will find yourselves wanting to kiss someone you like,” Ezra said seriously.

“Nah-uh.” Warlock said. 

“Never.” Adam agreed.

“Yes, well, when you’re fifteen and find yourself going on your first date, I’ll remind you of that. Either of you.” Ezra said mock-sternly before heading to the fridge, taking on the two little ones’ pesters for sustenance in stride.

 _Either of you_ , like it wasn’t even a question that Ezra would still be with them in ten years. Like he wasn’t not going to be there for Warlock’s first date. Like he hadn’t just subtly said he planned to be around forever.

~*~

“Morning, Bea!” Crowley said with a bit too much enthusiasm for the short, morose manager anytime before… ever. 

Bea merely stared at him in something most would think of as a glare but was actually just Bea’s natural disposition. 

“Crowley,” They greeted with as much affection as Bea normally mustered, which was actually quite a bit for Crowley compared to some. Many would think if they didn’t know them, that they were rather indifferent, or perhaps disdainful of their boss. If one were to hear them with customers, their sweetness and cheer, one would probably wonder how Bea hadn’t been fired yet for their attitude to the higher-ups. Those in the know actually knew that that sweetness and cheer directed at them was a terrible thing.

“I brought coffee.” Crowley said as he handed Bea the takeaway cup, “and a muffin from a shop I’ve been going to for a few weeks, now. It’s cranberry, to go with your coffee. Dark and bitter like your soul.”

“Oh, you do love me.” Bea deadpanned, picking up the cup and taking a sip. “Would you like to know how many meetings you have today, or would you rather be surprised as they come in?”

“I think I would like an idea what I’m getting myself into.” He said as he came around the corner, looking over their shoulder at the schedule.

Bea sniffed. “You smell weird.”

“Do I?” He asked, lifting his blazer and shirt, sniffing. It hit him, then, what changed. He blushed. “I, umm… I stayed at my boyfriend’s last night.”

“Boyfriend?” Bea asked, turning toward him a moment. “And how long has that been going on? I thought you broke up with nipple counter.”

“I did.” Crowley wrinkled his nose. Honestly, he hadn’t known the man did that when they first started seeing each other. 

“So, you’ve been living in Tadfield a month and you’re already seeing someone seriously enough to stay over to their house? And on a weekday, no less. How did you swing that one with Erica living here?”

“Ah,” Crowley said. “Warlock stayed over, too.”

Bea, for once, was generally surprised. “So, Anathema wasn’t bullshitting.”

“No, she was not,” Crowley replied, having no idea what was being said but was safely assuming that Anathema had gotten most of it right. “Which, reminds me, Eric? Really?”

Bea smirked. “He’s pretty and stupid. Makes terrible jokes. It sounded like the type she likes, after hearing enough about the amphibian.”

“Newt,” Crowley corrected.

Bea shrugged, taking another sip. “I heard it went well in any case.”

Crowley didn’t want to comment on that, because from what Ezra said, Newt had yet to realize it had taken place, which meant ‘it went well’ could simply mean Anathema going out with Eric again. Whether that was out of genuine interest for the poor bugger or not was yet to be seen.

“There are also a few orders you might want to fill while you’re here, to pass the time,” Bea suggested.

Crowley smirked. “So you don’t have to?” he asked, and Bea merely shrugged.

He moved to the work table tucked near the back, set out where people could watch the arrangements being made, and glanced at the books while grabbing an apron.

It wouldn’t do to dirty his dark red shirt, the sharp, tailored black jacket, or the very dark skinny denims he’d worn instead of his normal workwear. Meetings required something a bit more refined, after all.

“How are things with that girl you were seeing?”

“Over,” Bea said flatly, not offering anything more.

“Right.” Crowley nodded.

“Have you really known this new guy since you were thirteen?” Bea asked the rustle of the muffin bag heard as Crowley turned to get a few base leaves out of the fridge.

“Yes,” He replied, looking at what the first bouquet was. “Ezra and I have really known each other for nearly twenty years.”

“And he’s alright with you having a kid?”

“He’s got one himself,” Crowley said, getting a bit of a rush from saying it, knowing Ezra wouldn’t have to worry about that not being true. He continued working on the bouquet, piecing it together, then noticed who placed the order. “Oh for fuck sakes, how long has this been going on?” He asked, picking up the slip and showing it to Bea.

They looked from the slip to the arrangement on the table, then slowly shook their head. “I don’t think I took that one.”

“It’s from James.” He said, slapping it down. “Going to the mistress of the month.”

“At least he’s giving you the business,” Bea said with a shrug before the door to the shop opened, and they plastered on that fake, cheery, customer service grin they’d perfected.

Crowley continued to work on arrangements until the first of his appointments came in. He charmed a bride, much to her husband-to-be’s initial dismay. At least until he mentioned how his boyfriend liked a particular bloom (absolute bullshit), and then suddenly Crowley was the best florist around in the groom’s opinion. After an hour with them, and having settled on something she liked, he had only a few minutes to talk to customers on the floor before meeting with a party planner. Decorations were always longer for other events than weddings, as it was harder to nail something down that was less romantic in nature. Eventually, they figured out something her client would be happy with, and then she was off too.

“Go take your lunch, Bea,” Crowley said as the client left. “I can cover for now until Eric gets here.”

Bea said nothing as they left, grabbing their worn down leather jacket and heading out to wherever they headed out on lunch breaks. 

It wasn’t terribly busy for the time being, and Crowley was able to catch up on some paperwork in between customers.

The bell tinkled above the door. “Be with you in a moment.”

“Just having a look,” came the absent reply, but there was something familiar about the voice.

He looked up, frowning at first, and then smiling brightly. “Oscar!” He crowed, getting Oscar’s attention from the man he was with, turning to Crowley in equal surprise.

“Anthony?” He asked incredulously.

Crowley laughed as he came around the corner, striding up to Ezra’s ex with his hand offered for a shake. “Been a few years.” He said, glancing at the bloke Oscar came in with. “And you must be the husband.”

“Yes, Richard,” the other dark-haired man turned around, and Crowley lost it. Not over him, no, Richard was a fairly plain bloke, all things considered.

“Oh, Ezra never told me about you,” Crowley cooed at the baby strapped to Richard’s chest. A girl, from what he could gather, who was probably no more than six months old. “Oh, you are precious, yes you are!”

“This is Isabelle,” Oscar said, gesturing to his daughter. “And _Ezra_ didn’t know, because we only officially adopted her a couple weeks ago.”

“Oh, congratulations! My boy’s almost five now. Miss these days sometimes.” He said, absently holding out a finger for the baby to grab at.

Oscar continued to stare at him. “Ezra.” He repeated as if Crowley was stupid. And then Oscar chuckled, shaking his head. “You know, I didn’t think you two were speaking again, seeing as how you weren’t at Eliza’s funeral last month.”

“Oscar,” Richard warned quietly, Isabelle babbling away in her carrier.

“It’s alright,” Crowley waved him off, not phased in the least by Oscar’s demeanor. “Truth is we only found each other again after. Been damn near inseparable since, though.” 

“Right,” Oscar said, skeptically. 

Crowley brightened. “Oh, you should see this,” He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, quickly unlocking it and going into his gallery. “Snapped this at the park yesterday. Went back to get us a second drink and the boys called him over to help them get across the monkey bars.” 

He showed Oscar the picture of Ezra smiling, Warlock up on his shoulders holding on to the monkey bars with his little face screwed up like he wasn’t being supported and needed intense concentration. Adam was already up on the platform, partly in a blur as he was bouncing eagerly, waiting for his friend.

“Your boy, then,” Oscar said, pointing to Warlock. “Seeing as how I know Adam.”

“Yeah, they’re best mates, those two. Share the same birthday, eh? Want us to give them a joint party, though we’re utterly lost on how to go about that. Mind, we barely discussed it.” Crowley rambled until he realized Oscar was staring at him as if he’d been talking about aliens.

“It’s funny Ezra hasn’t mentioned any of this.” He said simply. 

“When would he have?” Crowley asked, half scowling. “Not like he’s been chatting away with you, mate. All he’s mentioned of you over the last month was, ‘yeah still keep in touch with Oscar, he’s married, was his best man.’”

Richard came up to them then, clearing his throat. “Oscar, babe, I know you’re protective of your friend, and I think it’s adorable, but I think you need to back off.”

“Do you not get who this is?” Oscar asked his husband.

“Yes,” Richard nodded. “It’s Anthony. Someone who Ezra constantly said _he_ lost touch with because _he_ said something ridiculous. So I think, maybe, if Anthony here is showing you pictures of the boys together, and telling you they’re friends again, maybe you need to back off a bit.”

“Oh, we’re not friends.” Crowley beamed like an idiot. “We’re dating!” He added gleefully.

“See,” Richard said, putting a hand on Oscar’s shoulder to stop him from seemingly exploding. “They’re happy. Now, despite whatever grudge you seem to have against him, he sells the most gorgeous plants and flowers in the city. So,” he patted his husband’s shoulder before turning away. “Play nice.”

Crowley bounced on the balls of his feet, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Right, so, see we aren’t going to be chummy like we used to be.”

Oscar deflated, rubbing his hand over his face. “Look, I’m sorry. Just… you broke his heart, mate. I kept hoping he’d move on, or let you go.”

Crowley nodded. “I get it. I wasn’t in a good place when what happened happened. But, you know, I never stopped….”

“Yeah.” Oscar nodded. Then he glanced around. “So you do this, now?”

“I do,” Crowley grinned proudly.

The door opened, and he turned to take care of the next customer. Eventually, Bea came back, and then Crowley’s next client arrived. 

He put his hands on Bea’s shoulders, getting their attention. “Those two blokes? The ones with the baby. Friends and family discount.” He told Bea before moving along, only able to catch Oscar’s attention as he was darting into the back room, and waved.

~A~

“Hello,” Ezra greeted the girl at the counter of the nursery as he came in. 

“For Adam, right?” She said with a grin.

“And Warlock, as well, today,” Ezra added.

The girl froze and frowned, then suddenly perked up. “Right, yes. I do remember Mr. Crowley adding you to the pickup list last week.” She said before she went into the back to get the boys.

Ezra opened his mouth, then shut it, unsure what to say. Yes, Anthony had only mentioned his picking up both the boys Saturday, which was technically last week, but he didn’t think the nursery would have been in contact with him then. So, that would mean that Anthony had added him to his emergency contact list for Warlock. Beforehand. Without telling him. This shouldn't be surprising, Ezra did the same sort of thing, but it just….

“Are we really taking the bus!?” Warlock asked as he and Adam came out with the girl who was manning the desk. 

She put the sign out log up for Ezra to fill in while he responded.

“Yes. I’m afraid I don’t own a car, and it’s a bit too far to walk.” Ezra signed out both boys then handed the log back over with a smile. “And, if we’re lucky enough, we won’t have to wait overlong. Come along, boys.” He said as he moved for the door, holding it open for them to go through and following them out. 

As they began to head down the street to the bus stop, he was pleasantly surprised to not only feel Adam’s hand fall into his grip but Warlock’s as well. It was with a sigh of relief that, while they eagerly giggled and chatted over what they would do when they got back to the Fell residence, they didn’t jump around or cause a ruckus. He did have to ask them a few times to quiet or settle down on the short bus ride, but that was almost expected. 

They got home without incident, and the boys went to Adam’s room to play while Ezra put on the kettle, sat down, and began to grade the last of the tests and papers before exams officially began.

He got up when the kettle boiled, had just fixed himself a cup of tea when he heard a knock on the door. 

He checked the clock on the stove, and seeing it was around four-thirty, he grinned, eagerly anticipating who would be on the other side.

Anthony had looked positively decadent when he’d walked out of the bedroom that morning, and Ezra hardly had enough time to truly appreciate the sight. The man had worn a suit, or something very close to it. Every single piece was perfectly fitted, and it was everything Ezra could do to keep his hands to himself. There had been children around in the beginning, and then they were in public. And if their parting kiss outside the cafe was a bit more than just a peck, could Ezra really be blamed?

He opened the door, ready to yank Anthony in and snog him utterly senseless before the boys noticed his arrival, and was highly disappointed that it was Gabriel on the other side.

“Oh,” He said, trying not to pout. Explains the knock, he supposed.

“I know, sunshine, I know I said we’d do something Sunday, and that didn’t happen, but-”

“Gabriel, it’s the middle of the week.”

“I know, I know. But I thought, hey! Maybe you guys would be up for a quick dinner, all three of us.”

“Well,” Ezra sighed. “It would actually end up being the five of us.”

“Five?” Gabriel questioned as he stepped inside, Ezra closing the door and moving with him. “What do you mean-”

“Is that Dad?” Warlock asked as he came running down the hall and into the kitchen, Adam trailing behind him and both stopping short when they spotted Gabriel.

“No, my dear. And what has your father said about running indoors?” Ezra said to the little boy.

“Sorry, Ezra.” Warlock said sheepishly.

“Sorry…,” Adam nodded, but then followed it by, “can we have a snack? We don’t know how long’s gonna be before Anthony gets here.” 

“Yes, let me just….” He said as he went to the fridge. “Gabriel, I really don’t know about this evening. But if you’d like, the kettle’s ready, and we can certainly have a cup of tea if you wish.”

“Sure thing, sunshine.” He responded, and he heard Gabriel go about the cupboards, making the tea while Ezra pulled out a couple of cheese sticks and an apple for each of the boys.

“I don’t know what the dinner plan for tonight will be, so this will have to do, for now, I’m afraid.”

“Thanks, Ezra,” Warlock beamed as he took the goods.

“Thanks,” Adam said with a quick hug.

“Not in the bedroom, boys.” He reminded them, then smirked as he heard them turn around and head into the living room.

Gabriel brought two cups of tea to the table as Ezra moved to join him, tidying the stack of papers he’d been going through before his guest showed up. He sat down with a sigh and a grin. 

“How are things?” He asked, taking a sip of the perfectly made tea.

“Good, great, really. They tell me I’m up for a promotion, but that was sort of a ‘you didn’t hear it from me’ type of hint. Ah, I’ve entered into the Tadfield marathon again this year.”

“Well, I do hope you get that promotion,” Ezra said, though he honestly had no idea what it was Gabriel really did, therefore had no idea how he would be promoted. “If you do get it, do you think you might relocate to London? To be closer.”

“No,” Gabriel said casually. “Of course not. I’m going to stay here in Tadfield. Close by in case you or Adam need me. I mean, Crowley can’t be around all the time, right? He’s got you watching Warlock as it is. Where is he, anyway? On a date?”

Ezra sighed, taking another sip of tea to bolster himself. 

“No, he’s not on a date. He’s in London himself, today, having had clients there he had to meet. But, Gabriel… there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you. For nearly two weeks now, which makes me quite a terrible friend.”

Gabriel reached across the table and took Ezra’s hand in his, meeting his gaze dead on. “Whatever it is you need to tell me, sunshine, just say it.”

Ezra took a deep breath. “Anthony and I are seeing each other. Romantically.”

Gabriel stared at him a moment, unblinking. 

“Alright.” He said simply, pulling his hand back and taking a drink of his tea.

“Oh?” Ezra perked up, tentatively happy by this outcome.

“Yeah,” Gabriel said with a shrug. “I mean… well it’s not like you two didn’t always have a sort of physical chemistry thing going on. Frankly, I had wondered if you two were going at it when you were seeing that other guy.”

“I assure you, we most certainly were not.” Ezra rushed to say. “This… this is all very new to us, each other that is. It’s… well you’re right, we did always… it’s just now.”

“Right,” Gabriel nodded. “And when Crowley’s had his fun, and things peter off, you know… I’ll be there for you.”

Ezra frowned. “What do you mean ‘when Crowley’s had his fun’?”

“Ezra,” Gabriel said in an almost condescending tone, taking Ezra’s hand again. “He left, remember? Things got a little heated between you two, you said something he didn’t like, and he bailed. For ten years. Now he’s here, he’s starting a new life, just happens to run into you, the boys are friends… it’s easy, you know? He doesn’t have to get to know you, he doesn’t have to make any effort. And when he’s bored or meets someone else, or you just… say the wrong thing again, he’ll leave.”

Ezra pulled his hand out from underneath Gabriel’s slowly, the furrow of his brow deepening. “You can’t be serious.”

“I was there.” He reminded Ezra. “I was there when he left, I was by your side the whole time. I was there when your mom passed, and-”

“No,” Ezra said as the door opened. “It’s not like that.”

“Angel!” Anthony’s voice called excitedly. “You will never guess who I ran into today.”

Ezra turned away from Gabriel and caught sight of Anthony as he came in, the outfit still perfectly tailored and positively immaculate.

“Who, darling?” He asked.

“Oscar and Richard,” Anthony replied very matter of fact as he came to stand at Ezra’s side. “And… Isabelle.” 

“Oh!” Ezra felt his whole self light up. “Oh, they got her! Oh, that’s wonderful. Is she as precious as they were saying she was?”

“Bloody adorable. But act surprised when they tell you.” Anthony warned, glancing down at their cups. “Still any tea-things about?”

He turned on his heel to the counter and went about making a cuppa.

Ezra, still beaming, turned back to Gabriel. “I’m so happy for them. I feel like they’ve waited an age to finally have a little one. They met Isabelle at the adoption agency just a couple months back and fell in love.”

“Can see why. _I_ fell in love with her a little.” Anthony said over his shoulder.

“You ever want more kids, Crowley?” Gabriel asked, almost sounding conversational had Ezra not known him so well.

Anthony finished making himself a tea, coming over to the table and taking the only seat left, sliding it a little closer to Ezra. “I wouldn’t say no to them.” He replied, blowing on the tea.

“No? Why didn’t you have more with Warlock’s mum, then?”

“She was a surrogate.” He replied easily, the lie seeming to taste familiar to him. “I wanted a child and I wasn’t going to wait.”

“And you didn’t think to have any more?” Gabriel asked.

“On my own?” Anthony frowned. “Do you have any idea how hard it is to go it alone? Like, totally alone? Liza had Ezra here to lend a hand, I was … the _only_ one getting up at night, doing the feedings and the changes, and whatnot. Don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t trade a second of it, but I certainly wouldn’t do it again by myself.”

“Really?” Gabriel asked, and before he could continue, Ezra cut in.

“He and I have already had this conversation, Gabriel,” Ezra replied. Because they had. Sort of. At least to a degree.

Anthony narrowed his eyes, glancing between the two of them before he seemed to understand.

“Oh, you told him,” Anthony said with a cheeky grin. “Sorry, mate.” He added, obviously not meaning a word of it.

“Don’t be,” Gabriel said with a shrug. “Not right now, at least.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? Hurt him ‘nd you’ll hurt me.”

“Something along those lines, yeah,” Gabriel said with his very fake smile. “And you will, eventually. You always do.”

“Alright, let’s… enough of that, now,” Ezra said, fluttering his hands about. He looked between the two men, then settled on Anthony. “I fed the boys a snack, but they’ll probably want to eat soon.”

“I was thinking Thai,” Anthony replied simply. 

“Sounds lovely. Maybe you could see what the boys would like?” 

“Can do, angel,” He said, getting to his feet. Ezra grabbed his hand and squeezed it a moment, bringing Anthony’s hand to his lips quickly. 

There had been a tension in Anthony, one just building up, that was instantly drained by the simple gesture. He brushed Ezra’s cheek very quickly, then went into the living room to talk to the boys.

Which left Ezra alone with Gabriel.

He appeared thoughtful, almost calculating at first. Then he turned his attention to Ezra and gave a genuine smile. “You seem happy.”

“I am,” Ezra replied. “Though I promise to carve out time for you, still. We’re friends, and we have been for a long time. I would hope this wouldn’t affect that.”

“Of course not,” Gabriel said as though that were never a risk. “No, when you want to get together, maybe if there’s a weekend the Crowleys aren’t about, or a night when you want someone else to talk to.”

“Of course, dear. Of course.” Ezra nodded.

Gabriel got up, and Ezra got up with him, moving to the doorway. 

“Well, mind how you go,” Ezra said, wringing his hands.

“Later, sunshine,” Gabriel said, squeezing Ezra’s arm, his fingers lingering a bit too long before he headed out the door.

Ezra stood in the entry a moment, allowing everything in him to settle. He finally told Gabriel about Anthony and felt a bit of relief with that. There was still anxiety, though. Gabriel had poked at the old wound of having been close to Anthony, of having a romantic connection, and then him leaving. But he trusted Anthony, fully and completely. Maybe that was utterly ridiculous of him, and maybe he shouldn’t. But he did, and what’s more, he was just as in love with him as he was back then.

He sighed, rolled his shoulders, and headed into the kitchen as Anthony came back out, smiling.

And still looking very, very delectable. 

“Boys are fine with something simple. We’ll have a look at the menu before we order.” Anthony said, leaning against the counter and watching Ezra come closer.

Ezra reached up and hooked his finger in the open collar of Anthony’s shirt and pulled him that slight bit down in order to kiss him as thoroughly as he had wanted to earlier in the day.

“What was that for?” Anthony asked as they broke apart. 

“You looked wonderful today. I know I told you earlier, but it had to be said again. Completely edible.”

“Edible?” Anthony asked, intrigued. 

Ezra hummed in confirmation. “I might be a bit biased, though, as I very much more than like you.” He said.

“Very much more than like you, too, angel,” Anthony replied, placing a quick peck on Ezra’s lips. “And as much as I’d like to continue this, we do have two, very hungry animals in there, and I think we need to feed them before they riot.”

Anthony pulled out his phone to look up the menu, and Ezra giggled as he took another moment to look at him before focusing on the task at hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next, we have have the equally fluff section two. But with the sweetness comes a touch of spice in the chapter that follows. No rating changes, though.
> 
> Until then
> 
> Chapter title from "Little Wonders" from Rob Thomas


	20. I Wanna Watch You Undress...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the fluffy bit part 2: spicy edition. What does that mean? Well, it means that there will be nudity in this chapter, and the nudity takes place in a bedroom. If you're worried, no bits are described, though they're mentioned off-handed and in non direct ways. If you've read anything by me before, you'll know how this works. If you haven't, and you have questions, feel free to ask them.

**2019**

It had been a great month. Mostly.

While they didn’t get to have a romantic date quite yet, Ezra and Anthony had been finding ways to simply be. They continued the routine established since the beginning but had been adding a weekday dinner or two as a family at one residence or the other. They were together during the day each weekend, and most of them involved sleepovers. Though so far those sleepovers didn’t involve much more than sleep. 

“I am… worried,” Ezra said to Marjorie, confiding in her as he felt perhaps Anathema was a bit too much Anthony’s friend in this instance.

“Why, dear?” Marjorie asked, sipping her tea as they sat out in the park. 

It had been another day where Ezra happily took both boys home from nursery. He didn’t have a full day at the school during exam time, and Anthony had been in London anyway. So with much more time to kill before his arrival than usual, Ezra had suggested that maybe the boys would want to be outside instead of in the flat. Marjorie had seen them as they passed, and was clearly in need of good gossip, much like Ezra was in need of a good vent.

He sighed, keeping an eye on Adam and Warlock as he spoke. 

“We have been together for six weeks. In that time, we have slept in the same bed easily a dozen times. He’s never pushed, never tried to get any further than a very passionate snog.” He sighed again, rubbing his forehead before dropping his hand in his lap. “I’m not sure what he ever saw in me, and I can tell you I certainly don’t have the same physique I had ten years ago when the attraction might have made sense. I do want think he’s giving me time-”

“Well, what in the world do you think would be his reason for holding back?” She asked him.

He took a drink of his tea, watching the boys another moment before turning to Marjorie. “The first night after we became a couple, the one before I met with Lucas, there was… a moment. On his sofa. I asked him to slow down because things were… well, _I_ was….”

“You didn’t want another Gabriel incident.” Marjorie nodded. “That’s understandable, love. AJ is your friend, and has been for much longer than Mr. Haven was.”

“I really didn’t.” He said simply, then chuckled mirthlessly. “Because somehow, after all these years, I still love Anthony Crowley and I am utterly petrified that he’s going to leave again. Only this time it will be because he’s come to realize that the memory of me was somehow better than the actual me.”

“Ezra, dear, that man looks at you like you hung the bloody stars. He’s not going to be put off by a little extra cushion.” Marjorie snorted.

“I’m not so sure it’s only a ‘little’. I have more stretch marks on my abdomen than my sister had, and she bore a child. What’s my excuse? A love of food and an unwillingness to do anything more vigorous than a brisk walk?”

“That hasn’t stopped you from catching a man’s eye before,” Marjorie said gently.

“No? When has that happened among the long bouts of celibacy?”

“Those were more self-imposed than anything.” She chided.

“Has it been? Have I missed the line of suitors over the last five years? Oh, lord… the last six, years, really.” Ezra frowned a moment, checking quickly on the boys. “I hadn’t seen any gentleman in any more intimate way than a mediocre dinner since before Adam was born. Gabriel was… a very thorough, drawn-out mistake.”

“You said it happened once?” Marjorie accused.

“It did happen once. It’s just that that once lasted,” he pursed his lips, “nearly twenty-four hours. Then he started talking about future times, dates, and I sort of came back to myself and realized what an awful, selfish thing I’d just done.” And then, after a sip of tea, added, “It would be nice to have nearly twenty-four uninterrupted hours of that with Anthony.” He mused, getting a chuckle out of Marjorie before he became weary again. “I just thought that he would make another attempt by now.”

“You know you can lead the way, don’t you?” Marjorie asked.

“I have led the way with every partner I’ve had my whole life.”

“Well, don’t stop now, dear. Especially after you’ve already told him once to slow down.”

“Hmm, fair point.” Ezra reluctantly agreed, smiling as there was a squeal of joy followed by peals of laughter from Adam and Warlock. “How long do you think I should wait before asking him to marry me?”

Marjorie threw her head back and laughed. “A while yet, my dear.”

“My first boyfriend waited four years to tell me he loved me and did it the day he proposed to me.”

“Did you say yes?” She asked curiously.

“Oh, no, I said no,” Ezra replied emphatically. “I think I knew deep down he wasn’t the one. Just someone I was comfortable with.”

“I have turned down every man who asked me to marry them, and I can honestly say I have never once regretted it.” She said simply. “Comfortable is never something anyone should settle for.”

“Well said, madam,” Ezra said, lifting his take away cup toward her and sharing a toast with her. “Which, I must say, is precisely why I never settled for Gabriel.”

“I had figured as much,” Marjorie said. “I will admit, I thought he was your young man when you first moved in with your sister, but I could see pretty quickly it was one-sided.”

“I think he’s trying to quietly sabotage things,” Ezra mused. “He’s been showing up much more randomly than before, and has been coming by on weekend mornings, though never the same day twice.”

“I have seen him pull up outside every weekend for the last little while.”

“He’s been trying to catch Adam and I alone, but he hasn’t had any luck.”

His phone chimed then, and he pulled it out of his pocket, seeing it was Anthony saying he was on his way.

“AJ?” Marjorie said knowingly.

“Yes, he’s on his way home. We have the boys’ primary orientation tomorrow. They meet their teacher, see the school, hear what it’s going to be like, that sort of thing.”

Marjorie hummed and nodded, watching the boys for a few minutes with him, seeing them scamper about. 

“In regards to AJ, though,” Marjorie began. “I’m sure I’ve got a few props I could loan you if you need to add some spice to get things going.”

“Marjorie,” Ezra replied, almost sounding scandalized.

She laughed, and he couldn’t help but laugh too.

~*~

They relocated to the Crowleys’ after dinner, what with the bed in Warlock’s room being better for a restful sleep for the boys. 

Anthony was tidying up in the kitchen, something he absolutely insisted he does alone for some reason, and before Ezra could protest, Gabriel rang.

So that’s where he was, on Anthony’s couch, watching him do the dishes that wouldn’t go in the dishwasher while talking to Gabriel on his mobile.

“Do you think Adam’ll do okay tomorrow? Will you?” Gabriel asked, sounding genuinely concerned. “I can be there, with you, if you want me to-”

“Gabriel, that’s very kind of you, but we’ll be fine. Lock is going to the same school.”

“How fortunate,” Gabriel said, and Ezra could just see the fake grin as if his friend was right beside him.

“It was arranged long before we ever reunited.” He said gently. “Adam and Lock will be pleased to be together, even if they don’t end up in the same class. And I’ll have Anthony. Although,” He glanced away when he realized Anthony had stood still at the sink, staring at the cupboard above it. “I think this will actually be a case where he’ll need _me._ ”

“Ah,” Was all Gabriel said, and the dishes began to resume in the kitchen.

“So, how are things?” Ezra asked as he turned away from watching Anthony. “Did you hear any more on that promotion?”

“Yes! It’s looking more like it's going to happen….” That started Gabriel off on a tangent about something Ezra barely understood on a good day. Instead, he made the appropriate noises at the appropriate spots while returning his attention to Anthony, watching him finish up. He had wiped the island down three times before he seemed to snap out of whatever trance he was in, shaking himself before moving on to the counters. He had nearly finished his task.

“Gabriel, dear,” Ezra said when there was a lull. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to let you go for now.”

“Crowley need you?”

“Marking,” he lied, not that Gabriel kept track of those sorts of things. “Must get it done, what with the end of the year being next week.”

“Alright, sunshine,” Gabriel said with way more affection than one would give a friend. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow, you can tell me how it went.”

“Of course. Until then.” Ezra said as he rang off, tossing his phone on the coffee table and watching as Anthony stood still in the kitchen, wringing the dishtowel in his hands repeatedly. “Darling?” he called, seeing Anthony snap his head in his direction. His serpentine eyes were wide, sad, and scared.

“My little boy’s going to orientation tomorrow.” He said, tossing the dishtowel on the island and coming to sit next to Ezra. “I… where did the _time_ go?”

“By in a blink, I’m afraid,” Ezra said, placing a hand on Anthony’s thigh and running his hand soothingly over it. “Is there any way I can help?”

Anthony laughed mirthlessly. “Got a time machine? Can you take me back to when he was, I dunno, three? When this seemed so far away?”

“I’m sorry,” Ezra said.

“It hit me tonight,” Anthony explained. “We were tucking them into bed, and they were talking about how exciting it was going to be, and it just hit me that this was… this was it. There’s no picking them up from nursery, it’s an after school program until one of us can get them or both of us. Or, my leaving early to get them, and then getting _you_. It’s… it’s going to be them in uniforms, and little desks, and I just….” He looked plaintively at Ezra. “I’m so proud of Lock, and so happy he gets to do this with a friend. But he’s going to grow up so much quicker now, I can feel it. And I know, I know Adam hasn’t always been yours, but I feel like I’ve just started to know him and now he’s going to be all grown up, too.”

Ezra couldn’t help but smile. “Anthony, love, it was bound to happen.” He frowned when he realized Anthony’s eyes went somehow wider. And that he’d stopped breathing. Then it clicked. “Oh. Oh dear, did I say that out loud?”

Anthony just nodded.

“Oh.” Ezra cleared his throat. “Well. Suppose the cat’s out of the bag, then. Though I must confess, I had always thought myself terribly obvious.”

Anthony continued to just stare at him.

Ezra began to wring his hands. “Well, it’s just… well, it’s just that I’ve, um, well… I think it’s been for as long as I’ve known you. But, obviously, we were quite young, then, and it’s just, well, h-how can anyone _really_ be sure a-at fourteen, or sixteen, even, how they feel about someone? I can say for sure it’s been since we were at least eighteen, even… even with Oscar in the picture. It certainly never went away, despite everything.” He gave a self-deprecating smile, but Anthony didn’t crack a grin. He didn’t do anything. “Oh… fuck.” Ezra said, palming his face with both hands. 

There was an uncomfortably long stretch of silence, which was probably only a few seconds. Ezra rubbed his face roughly a couple of times before lifting his head and facing Anthony dead on. 

“I love you,” Ezra said plainly. “I Figure if I managed to ruin this with my errant mouth yet again, I might as well just come out and say it this time. Let it all out in the open, as it were.”

“What?” Anthony finally croaked out.

“I didn’t want to walk away without telling you, not again.” Ezra lamented. “I’ll… go upstairs. Move my things to the guest room.”

“Why?” Anthony said in a clipped tone that Ezra actually couldn’t get a read on.

“Well, it’s a bit late to return to my flat. I don’t want to wake Adam. Though… I suppose if I woke up early enough, bus back, he may not have even realized-”

“Don’t,” Anthony interrupted. “Don’t. I just… I think my brain completely shut down for a moment. Just… give me a sec.”

“Alright.” Ezra frowned, shifting to move a bit away.

Anthony’s hand struck out and caught his waist, preventing the movement.

He didn’t say anything, but his eyes darted around Ezra’s face. 

“I thought… I was going to be the one to slip up first. I thought I was going to say it in a really stupid moment, like when you made an awful joke, or when you got excited over a pastry at the cafe. I-I dreamed of maybe, I dunno, doing a big, grand gesture thing where I did flowers, or a perfect, romantic date -which we’ve yet to go on- and…. And you just call me ‘love’ like it’s the simplest thing in the world.” He smiled then, a big, bright, beautiful smile that made Ezra damn near swoon. “Had to make sure I hadn’t snapped. You rambling, well, I’ve had daydreams involving that ramble. Have it down pat after twenty years.”

“You daydream about my rambling?” Ezra asked incredulously.

“It’s an Ezra thing, so yeah, I’ve daydreamed of it.” 

“What could you possibly be daydreaming about that has me rambling?”

“So many things,” Anthony said, leaning in and kissing the corner of Ezra’s mouth. “So many things I think I always thought would make you nervous.”

“You’re making me nervous now,” Ezra said with a slight curl of the lips.

“Am I?” Anthony said with a dark tone before he kissed the other corner.

“I told you I love you, and all you’ve managed to say in turn is that you’ve daydreamed of my rambling.”

“I love you, you idiot,” Anthony said as he moved to Ezra’s neck, lips brushing on his pulse point. “I have forever. You saying it first? Caught me off guard.”

Ezra hummed, pleased. 

Anthony pulled away, and without saying a word, offered Ezra his hand as he stood up.

Ezra took his hand and followed.

Upstairs in Anthony’s bedroom, the door closed and locked, the two of them shared a slow kiss before nervous fingers found the hem of a henley and pulled it up.

Anthony broke away and allowed the top to come up and off, pulling it off his arm and tossing it to the clothes bin.

“Oh my,” Ezra breathed, fingers hovering but not knowing where to touch first: the familiar ivy and snake, or the new additions inked into Anthony’s skin.

He started with the apple tree just below Anthony’s ribs on his right side.

“Covers the scars to my surgery, the transplant for Terry,” Anthony explained, his hand covering Ezra’s as he touched.

“An apple tree?” he asked, glancing up at Anthony.

He gave a cheeky smirk. “Family roots. And, the last name being Adams… Adam’s apple. I thought I was being clever.”

Ezra’s hands trailed down, touching the galaxy. “This was where your appendectomy scar was.” He said. 

“Yeah, covered that one up first,” He said. 

Anthony dropped his hand from Ezra’s and went for his button and fly, easily removing his skinny jeans in a practiced movement that required him to bend both knees. 

Ezra watched him, appreciating the action. When Anthony stood straight again, there was something running almost perfectly along the band of his boxer briefs.

Ezra barked a laugh. “Really?” He asked, fingers trailing over Anthony’s hip bone where a tiny, simple line-art bicycle -a purple frame with a blue and pink wheel, was inked. A bit brighter was a little flag attached to the back with a pink, yellow, and blue stripe. 

“What?” Anthony asked, glancing down at it with a shrug. “Thought it was sort’ve cute. Bit cheeky.” He added. “Or are you laughing at the fact I had to correct it in a way a bit later?”

“No. You’ll… see,” Ezra smirked wickedly, running his fingers over Anthony’s hip bones before leaning in to kiss him.

It didn’t last long.

“Oi, turn about, here, angel,” Anthony said as he began to work on the many layers Ezra wore, patiently removing each one until Ezra was bare from the waist up. 

Which, he suddenly realized, put him in very sharp contrast to the lithe figure in front of him.

The lithe figure who looked him over without much lust.

“Oh,” Ezra said as he glanced down at his soft, rounded belly. “You must be terribly disappointed.”

Anthony searched him over. “I am,” he said, then twisted Ezra around to look at his back. “I was told there would be more artwork hidden.” He said as his thumb brushed against the books and wings.

“Ah,” Ezra said, feeling quite relieved, a touch put out, and a sprinkle of wickedness as he turned back to Anthony. “Afraid you’re going to have to search further down.”

Ezra had been present at every Christmas since Adam was born, and had distinctly remembered how he looked each one of those mornings when presented with the pile of presents that appeared beneath the tree. At Ezra’s hint, Anthony looked like he just was told he could open every single present beneath the tree because they were all for him.

Anthony got down on his knees, which made Ezra have to look away a moment to catch his breath. Anthony placed a quick peck to Ezra’s belly just below his belly button (which tickled), as he managed to get Ezra’s trousers off.

“Wow,” He said, which might have been terribly flattering and maybe a bit ego-boosting had it not been for the fact that Anthony was looking at his left thigh. “Oh, why do you have this covered up?”

He ran his hand over the image of a book opened flat, light glowing from it as silhouettes of some of Ezra’s favorite characters or objects from his favorite books came up from the pages. He’d had more added to it over the years, which was his intent when he came up with the original idea. 

“Probably because the only other real estate on my body large enough to handle it was either my back or my abdomen. On my back, I’d never see it. And, well, I don’t need to draw any more attention to this, now, do I?” Ezra replied as he ran his hand over the small swell.

“What, this? Adorable.” Anthony said as he kissed it again.

“There’s another,” Ezra smirked.

“Oh?” Anthony asked, searching Ezra’s other leg.

Ezra cleared his throat, and lowered his boxers just a hair, dragging the waistband down to reveal a set of numbers inked in rainbow. At Anthony’s frown, he explained, “It’s the ISBN number of Oscar Wilde’s _Poems in Prose_.”

Anthony blinked, then began to giggle, kissing the number a couple of times before getting to his feet, then kissing Ezra’s lips a couple of times as well. “That’s why you laughed at my little bicycle.”

Ezra nodded. “It would seem, even without one another around, we seemed to have corresponding tattoos once more. Though I admit, I’m a little surprised you didn’t know that tidbit from the start.” He said, placing his thumb over the flag. 

Anthony shrugged, snaking his arms around Ezra’s shoulders.

“Didn’t know there was something that said that when I had the bicycle done.” He replied before kissing Ezra more thoroughly as Ezra took hold of his waist. “But now that the art show is over, there’s something else I would much rather be doing. If you want to.” He said against Ezra’s lips.

“Oh, I very much want to.” Ezra nodded, kissing Anthony again and steering him toward the bed.

~C~

“Well,” Crowley panted, lying flat on his back on top of the sheets, hands flopped one above his head and one on Ezra’s chest. “That was a thing.”

“Indeed it was.” Ezra agreed, sharing the same wide-eyed, dazed look Crowley knew he was wearing as well. He, too, was on his back, though hands folded on his stomach.

He turned his head toward Crowley, and their eyes met.

Then they laughed.

They laughed until it hurt, then laughed some more. When one started to calm down, the other would start them back up, until it finally hurt too much and there were tears leaking from their eyes.

“I don’t think I’ve ever laughed that much during sex,” Crowley confessed. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, it was good. Great, really, that was… that was….”

“It _was_ ,” Ezra agreed, turning back to the ceiling thoughtfully. “Mind, it’s been a very long time for me.”

“Oi, what’s that supposed to mean?” Crowley asked, knowing Ezra was trying to egg him on. 

“Nothing, darling.” He replied with a smirk. “And I have to agree. I don’t think it’s ever been that fun.”

“Like play,” Crowley agreed with a smirk.

“Quite,” Ezra added, looking back at Crowley. “I haven’t had as many lovers as you have, but I can say that it’s never been that wonderful. Which sounds so, terribly, awfully cliche.”

“Is what it is angel,” Crowley said, rolling on to his side. “Never had anything close to it.”

“I _have_ had close,” Ezra admitted. “Oscar, near the end. But it wasn’t… it wasn’t this easy. Maybe more passionate, more intense.”

“Oi,” Crowley said again, more pointedly.

“That doesn’t mean I enjoyed it more.” Ezra soothed. “And I’m absolutely certain you’ve had lovers who-”

“Yeah, yeah.” Crowley cut him off. 

He wasn’t wrong. He wasn’t high on an orgasm that scrambled his brain, he wasn’t so utterly sated that he wasn’t sure he could move. He’d had those, in the past, but this? This was actually satisfying in a way that none of the others had been. Probably because it left him feeling cherished, cared for, taken care of in a way that wasn’t just about his pleasure.

I left him feeling loved.

It left him wanting more in the very best way.

“You aren’t disappointed, are you?” Ezra asked quietly. 

Crowley met his eye and saw the worry in them.

“No.” He shook his head. “No, not disappointed. Not in the least.”

“Alright,” Ezra said as if he wasn’t sure he believed him.

“Hey, I mean it,” Crowley said, pulling one of Ezra’s hands off his abdomen and kissing the knuckles. 

Ezra gave a fleeting grin that didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m just sure you expected more. I’m sure you’re used to more, and I’m….”

“I could show you just how not disappointed I am. Maybe in the shower?” Crowley suggested with a twitch of his eyebrows. Ezra looked at him, then at the clock on the nightstand.

“I suppose it isn’t too late.”

Crowley spluttered.

Ezra got up. “Don’t give me that, love, we have to be up early in the morning. If you think those two aren’t going to come pounding on that door any later than seven o’clock.

Crowley might have said that Ezra had a point. Might have, he wasn’t sure. For, despite a good long time getting acquainted with it, Ezra’s body moved around the bed and past him, completely naked, and Crowley’s brain stopped working.

A piece of the puzzle that hadn’t been slotted into place before finally dropped, and it hit him that this was _real_. This wasn’t some crazy dream, and the last month wasn’t just something he was imagining. Ezra was actually his, to look at and touch, and know in a way he had always wanted to know but never thought he would.

“Anthony,” Ezra called as the shower turned on. “You’re going to be quite uncomfortable soon if you don’t hurry up.”

Crowley didn’t have to be told twice, and he jumped out of bed to follow Ezra in the master ensuite.

He didn’t make him laugh a second time, but that wasn’t a bad thing, either.

~*~

Crowley stifled a yawn, though, by Ezra’s quiet chuckle, it didn’t go unnoticed. 

“I told you,” Ezra said quietly as they waited with the other parents, Warlock and Adam already huddled with the rest of their friends from nursery. 

“So why are you still so… you?” Crowley grumbled, glancing at Ezra up and down, noting he was dressed almost exactly like he would have any other weekday. Well, without the waistcoat, or the bow tie, which was a bit like seeing him naked. 

Ezra gave him a side-eye, “Darling, there is at least a day or two a week I don’t sleep more than an hour if I’m lucky. I’m very used to being able to get by on little sleep.”

“I just can’t believe they _actually_ got up before seven.” He sighed, scrubbing at his face. 

“It’s new and exciting, and nerve-racking,” Ezra said casually. “And they get to do it together. You must remember what it was like leaving for Oxford together.”

“I do, but I did _not_ get up before seven in the morning.”

“No, but you have always loved sleep.” Ezra pointed out. 

“Yeah, that’s true.” Crowley agreed, dropping his hand to his side and interlacing his fingers with Ezra’s. 

Ezra leaned into him a bit, and Crowley hummed happily. 

They turned their attention toward the principal as they began to speak to the parents and future students. There were the introductions of the staff, of the school structure and what parents could expect. The principal announced the classes, and Crowley felt Ezra relax against him when it turned out the boys were going to be together next year. Then, they were following the boys and their new class around the school to where their class would be. 

Crowley was grateful Ezra didn’t let go as they followed the kids, as Crowley’s heart ached as he watched Warlock and Adam moving in the line with the others. And it ached just a bit more when they slide into those little desks, their little feet kicking about as they listened to the lovely young woman who would be their primary teacher come September. 

He was also grinning like an idiot, that same, sappy, dopey smile that all the other parents seemed to have while looking at their kids. And no, he wasn’t a bit misty-eyed, his contacts were irritating his eyes. 

As the teacher continued to talk to them, Adam turned and looked over his shoulder, finding them at the back. He grinned, at them, and Crowley gave him a tiny wave with his free hand. Adam grinned a little brighter, then settled back around. 

The teacher called the students to the carpeted area, where they would read a story, something Warlock seemed overly excited.

But when Crowley went to move forward, like the other parents, he found Ezra backing away.

He glanced over his shoulder as Ezra’s hand slipped from his.

“I just need a moment.” He said quietly, his eyes watery as he stepped away and left the classroom. 

Crowley watched, torn between running after him and staying for the boys. 

Someone touched his arm, and he turned to see Pepper’s mum giving him a friendly grin. “Go with him,” Amma said. “If the boys look for you two, I’ll just gesture or something.” 

“Thanks,” he said before darting out in the hall. 

Ezra was standing in the middle of the hallway, hand fluttering near his face like he was going to touch it but couldn’t bring himself to do it.

“Angel?” Crowley asked, getting Ezra’s attention.

His lips twitched up a moment, very fleetingly. “I’m… I was fine. Really, I’m proud. I think I’m as proud as any parent in there. But… I shouldn’t have been the one here today. I should have been hearing about it later on when it was all done. In the best of worlds, I should have had to hear Eliza tell me how you cried when only got a bit teary-eyed.”

“This is the first big thing, isn’t it? With Adam, since Liza.” Crowley asked.

“Yes.” Ezra said solemnly, “It’s the first thing I’ve done as a parent.” 

Crowley didn’t know what to say, so he merely pulled Ezra to him a moment, hugged him, kissed his head, and said, “take as long as you need. I’ll go back in.”

“No, it’s fine,” Ezra assured. “I only needed that moment.”

Ezra stepped back, taking Crowley’s hand, and headed back inside the classroom.

~A~

Following their tour of the school, the boys proclaimed that they should get fish and chips. Which, Ezra realized, Anthony was nearly helpless to deny. He had rules when it came to Warlock, of course. The boy didn’t always get what he asked for, and he was reprimanded for his bad behavior. But little requests like a special treat for dinner?

Ezra had only ever noticed the same sort of hopelessness with him, and now it was spreading to Adam.

They found a spot a bit away from their neighborhood, a cart that was near a park where the boys could run about after if they wanted. It was not five-star dining, not like Ezra had been having much of that lately, but it was delicious in that way food you shouldn’t eat often was. 

“What took you so long in the office this afternoon?” Anthony asked between bites. “Thought it was just a quick refresh of the paperwork.”

“Oh, it was,” Ezra replied. “Because I faxed over the custody papers a few days ago, they had most of it corrected, I just needed to sign a few things. But there was a woman in there, and we got to chatting while I was updating everything.” He tried not to laugh. “I think she was flirting with me, or attempting to. I can’t remember the last time a woman attempted to flirt with me.”

“That was yesterday for me,” Anthony said in an off-hand manner. “Everything went alright with the paperwork, though, yeah?”

“Oh, yes,” Ezra assured, glancing over at the boys a moment. They didn’t seem to be paying attention, but he could never tell for sure. Lowering his voice, he added, “though I should tell you that I have you down as Adam’s second. I probably should have said something earlier seeing as how I put you down at the nursery the day we… well, Warlock’s first day.”

“You’re Lock’s second,” Anthony said in a casual way Ezra could see through. “I changed things about more recently. It used to be Anathema, but.”

“You didn’t have to do that, darling,” Ezra said, smiling in spite of himself.

“No, but I wanted to,” Anthony added.

“What does that mean?” Warlock asked.

“What does what mean?” Anthony asked his son.

“Second.”

“The thing or person that comes in after one, or the first,” Anthony replied. “So, in this case, it means if you get hurt or sick at school, and the school can’t get a hold of me, they’re going to call Ezra.” 

“And Anthony would get me if you couldn’t?” Adam asked.

“Precisely,” Ezra replied with a grin.

“Alright then,” Adam shrugged.

After a minute or so and a few more bites, Ezra said, “You know, if you’d like, I’m more than happy to have Warlock over during the summer while you’re working, dear. Or, if you would rather, or if it’s easier, I could bring Adam over to yours.”

There was a quiet couple of gasps from the little men, and Ezra found him having to press his lips together to keep from outright laughing at their ridged excitement. 

As they braced themselves, Anthony shot Ezra a tiny wink before saying, “I dunno. One little demon is a handful, but two?”

“We’d be really good all the time,” Adam said immediately.

Anthony moved his head from side to side, “I dunno,” He said again, milking the fake uncertainty. “It might get to the point where you two would be sick of each other, all that time together.”

“We wouldn’t.” Warlock shook his head vigorously. “We’re very best friends, we wouldn’t get sick of each other.”

“Don’t torture the poor boys,” Ezra chided gently.

“Well,” Anthony sighed, “If it’s okay with Ezra, I suppose, Lock, we can have the Fells over during the summer when school’s done.”

The boys were almost too excited to finish their lunches

~C~

“Is it too early to ask him to move in with me?” Crowley asked Anathema, Newt, and apparently Eric as they gathered after Warlock’s bedtime for card game night. They were gathering at the table when Anathema had asked about orientation, and Crowley told her the offer Ezra made.

“Didn’t we just move him into the flat a month ago?” Newt asked as he shuffled the cards for the night’s game.

“Yeah, but… you know we got together that night. And we’ve been over to one another’s places a lot since then, had lots of sleepovers.” At this, Anathema gave him a sly grin and a wiggle of her eyebrows. “Not like that,” Crowley scowled. “That-that’s all… not the point. The point is, we’re always over at one another’s place, right? And now he’s offering to take on Warlock while I’m at work during the summer. I mean, we’re all but-”

“AJ,” Anathema said firmly. “You and Ezra have been dating for only a little while longer than Eric and me. Eric, are you ready for us to shack up?”

At this, Eric laughed nervously. “No, not at all.”

Anathema gestured to Crowley like she’d proved her point.

“Yeah, but you two literally only met a little over a month ago.” Crowley retorted as Newt began to deal the card. “Ezra and I, we’ve known each other for two decades.”

“Does it count as two when you didn’t talk for one?” Newt wondered out loud.

“Yes,” Crowley said without hesitation. “We know each other, and we love each other. Our boys love each other, and… well, I can’t speak for Ezra, but I love Adam and I’m pretty sure Ezra loves Lock. We have something fantastic here, so why not keep building on it?”

“Why did you two stop talking for ten years?” Eric asked, frowning as he was the one the least in the know about everything. Crowley was, after all, his boss. And it wasn’t like Bea was one to gossip.

Crowley sighed, rubbing at his face. “He said something, and I… didn’t like it. And I was … not in a good space at the time. So, I fucked up. And Ezra? You tell him something, he takes it at face value if he thinks you really mean it. And… I think for just a second, I really, really did.”

“And what if he moves in, and you two fight?” Anathema asked gently. “Maybe it’s about something about Gabriel, or Tony, or anyone. Maybe he does something parenting wise you don’t agree with. Ezra is new to being a dad. And while he was extremely active in Adam’s life, he wasn’t the parent. Now he is, and he’s still going to be figuring things out for himself. Maybe… hold off on the moving in. Keep going with the sleepovers, and maybe, in a few months, come back to the idea.”

Crowley didn’t like it, but he thought maybe Anathema was right. He was still riding the highs of the night before, of I love yous and lovemaking. He needed to slow down before he did something stupid and ruined everything again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so concludes the fluff. As it's a holiday weekend, we will maintain fluff and pretend until after that the next chapter doesn't exist. It does, and it's awful. I may have spent the day afterward playing Animal Crossing to dull the pain (or I might have done that anyway, who knows).  
> Until Next time, and happy holiday weekend.
> 
> Chapter title from "Run" by Matt Nathanson feat Sugarland
> 
> UPDATE 7/31/2020: Phantomstardemon has written their first time together! You can find it here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25632409


	21. But I Don't Say A Lot of Things (And You My Love Are Gone)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's entirely possible that I've exaggerated the brutalness of this. But gbMs, my partner in writing crime, said "ouch" after reading it through. So, here we are.

**2008**

This was bullocks. Absolute horse shit. Anthony found the whole situation completely detestable. Here he was living his everyday life around a campus he didn’t know, all without Ezra. And for what? So that in a couple of years, when he reaches some arbitrary age of maturity he can gain money that had been hanging over his head for as long as he had an understanding of what it all meant? So he could maybe get a piece of paper that might give him some more credit with people. He knew what was expected, and he didn’t want that, so why was he bending to the whim of a man he hated?

And why in the bloody hell had he never noticed that Ezra was his entire social circle?

Yeah, he dated, and those people became a part of his life while they were around. And of course, he spent time with them when they were with him, but they weren’t his friends, not really, and not after they broke up. He knew people, he liked them, but he wasn’t close to anyone but Ezra.

Maybe Eliza, but she wasn’t close enough to where he was to count. 

“I miss you,” Anthony lamented over the webcam, watching Ezra grade things. 

“I miss you, too, dear,” Ezra replied, glancing up. “It’s not quite the same without you.”

“Yeah,” Anthony sighed. “Should’ve spent more time with you over the summer.”

“In what way could we have possibly spent more time together?” Ezra asked, amused. “We were practically joined at the hip.”

“Yeah, well, didn’t want things with Oscar to… you know. Be weird.” Anthony pouted.

He was there when Ezra first saw his ex for the first time. It had felt heavy in a way neither Anthony nor Eliza knew how to deal with. They’d been in a local pub back in their hometown, out celebrating Deidre’s engagement to a bloke named Arthur she’d met while away at Uni. And there, across the way, had been Oscar with his friends. And he was staring. Of course, he was, because Ezra hadn’t looked nearly as miserable as Oscar did, and he was being just as physically affectionate with Anthony as he’d always been. 

Which was another thing to lament: nothing changed. Nothing. Nada.

Anthony had been single when Ezra and Oscar split, and he was at Ezra’s side as much as he could possibly be. But in the end, he was a bit of a coward, and Ezra felt out of reach. Like they really were some sort of angel and demon who weren’t supposed to be together despite how much he wanted. He’d thought of just kissing Ezra so many times in the days before they left Oxford together for the final time, and even on occasion at the Fells, where it seemed it was really the only safe place for him to think like that. But the moment would pass, or there would be some sort of interruption, and the shift never happened.

But there were still moments when Ezra looked at him like he was something so much more than a friend. At least he thought there was, he could just be projecting.

“Oscar and I haven’t spoken to each other.” Ezra reminded him. “And while seeing one another is hard, it’s hardly like there’s anything different for it to be weird. Except, of course, that now we’ve dated, and have been physically intimate, waited four years to say what we felt, and having it end with a rejected marriage proposal.” He paused, eyes darting about the room before looking back into the camera. “Not anything weird at all. From my understanding it’s the modern romance, merely stretched out over years instead of months.”

“Angel, are you being cynical?” Anthony asked with a smirk.

“What on Earth do I have to be cynical about?” Ezra asked a furrow in his brow. “Except, perhaps, the horridness of these first essays. I mean, really. I knew when I became a TA it would likely lead to reading some terrible pieces of writing, especially from first years, but this truly exceeds my expectations. Who taught these people?”

“Maybe you should be a teacher.” Anthony shrugged. “That way at least one group of first years will have better standards.”

Ezra humphed. “You know if I can get by doing academia I will.” He retorted primly.

“Of course,” Anthony said, glancing at his workload and sighing. “Stay on while I do some work?”

“Of course.” Ezra agreed in what Anthony wanted to call lovingly. 

And damn it all did Anthony miss him.

He really needed to make some friends.

~*~

“I’m renting you a flat not far from the school,” James said as Anthony passed him on the way to get his jacket and shoes. 

“Sorry, what?” He paused, looking over his shoulder at his James, frowning.

“A flat. For you to live in. Don’t get too excited, just a little studio.” James waved it off as if it wasn’t a big deal.

But it was. It was a very big deal. For one, the very few friends he made (which were really more like acquaintances) were on campus. For another, it would mean needing to get up just that much earlier in order to get to class on time. 

“I don’t want a flat,” Anthony said simply, but already figuring out that it wasn’t up for debate.

“And I don’t want you fucking around with nancies,” James shot back with a touch of a sneer. “Don’t think I don’t know who you’ve been hanging around with.”

“And how’s a flat away from the school going to help with that?” Anthony asked, setting his bag of gifts for the Fells down on the entryway console table to start getting his stuff on.

“Because my intern is the one who told me it was available,” James said casually. “Thin walls, he says. And the flat next to his had opened up.”

Anthony shook his head and scoffed. “What the hell is the big deal if I sleep with a man anyway? What’s it to you?”

“What’s it to me?” James demanded. “You’re my son, you carry my family name. A long, proud line of Crowley men who are not to be trifled with. Who the hell would take you seriously if it’s thought you could make a deal on your damn knees?”

“Okay,” Anthony said, moving a few feet closer to James. “Who even says I’m going to go on and do your whole trading shit or whatever? Huh? What if I want to open my own business, deal with the real grit of it?”

James held his eye a moment. “Suppose I can’t be surprised, but at least doing things my way, when you do fail, you have something to fall back on.” When Anthony turned to head back and grab the stuff, James asked, “Where are you going?”

“To the Fells. They invited me for Christmas eve.” Anthony said as he adjusted the scarf.

“That poof-”

“Ezra. His name is Ezra. And I’m chummy with his sister, too.” He said as he grabbed the bag and headed out the door.

Anthony took a moment to stand on the doorstep to just breathe. 

He’d been hanging around with some of the few people he knew were like or similar minded to him, but he was still keeping himself single. He wasn’t seeing anyone, he’d been keeping his trousers on. But apparently, somehow, that wasn’t enough for the self-important James Crowley.

Longline of Crowley men indeed.

Sighing, Anthony headed off on foot to the Fells, where he knew mulled wine and little savory treats awaited him. That, and the feeling of warmth that a real family would bring. 

It had started to snow by the time he made it to their front door, where he was told long ago to just knock and go in. He brushed his hair off in the doorway, setting down the bag and shedding his outerwear.

“That you, Anthony?” Cynthia called, and he smiled.

“Yeah, just me.” He said as he picked up the bag and headed into the kitchen where she was ladling out some drinks. Far more than the normal four she would. “Party tonight?”

“Yes,” She said. “I had invited a few of the single, or more lonely colleagues of mine here for the evening.” She grinned. “Ezra should be around somewhere, dear.” 

“Thanks.” He said before reaching into the bag and pulling out a nice tea set he thought she might like. “Happy Christmas.” He said as he set it down for her. 

“Oh, you didn’t have to get me anything.” She said with a smile that showed how touched she was.

“I know, but.” He shrugged, not sure what to say. 

Cynthia gave him a one-armed hug and sent him on his way with two cups of wine. 

He followed the sound of lightly playing Christmas music to the living room, but by the looks of things, there was no Ezra or Eliza to be seen. He then headed down the hall glancing in Eliza’s room, though the lights were off. And then he heard the muffled sound of hushed conversation coming from Ezra’s.

He went up to the door slowly, his excuse being him not wanting to spill the wine if he was noticed.

“…Can’t, Eliza. It… it feels too soon.”

“It’s been months, Ez,” Eliza responded. “And I know you two reached out, and there was a talk of getting back together.”

“It never would have worked,” Ezra responded before Anthony’s heart took a nose dive to his gut. “Oscar knew, but… Oh, Eliza, I simply can’t. What if-”

Anthony bumped the door trying to lean in closer, and went with it, pretending as quick as he could that he hadn’t been eavesdropping.

“Oh, shit. I mean, happy Christmas.” He said when Eliza scowled at him.

“I’m guessing one of those isn’t for me.” She said, gesturing to the wine.

“Ah, no. But!” Anthony said, extracting one finger to get her to wait before handing Ezra one of the two glasses. Anthony then maneuvered his hand to let go of one strap of the gift bag, reaching in and pulling out a half-sized bottle of wine. “This shit is expensive, so don’t go wasting it all on a bender.”

Eliza gasped, getting up from where she had been perched on Ezra’s bed and taking the bottle up like it was an ancient relic of great power. “I almost like you,” She said before getting on her toes and kissing his cheek.

“You adore me.” Anthony glowered as she practically skipped out of the room.

“No one can know, though!” She added before ducking into her bedroom, her voice fading off as she did.

Anthony smiled and looked at Ezra and the heavy reality that this was the first time they’d seen each other physically since the summer suddenly hit him.

Ezra beamed, getting to his feet as he set down the glass of mulled wine. He then took the second one out of Anthony’s hand, placing it next to his on the desk, and then wrapped his arms around Anthony’s neck.

“Happy Christmas,” He gushed into Anthony’s neck as the ginger wrapped his own arms tight around the blonde.

“Happy Christmas, angel.” He said as he rocked them back and forth a little. “Got you something.”

“And I, you,” Ezra said as he stepped back, going around his bed to his nightstand and opening the drawer. He pulled out a bottle of a very scotch that Anthony had enjoyed very much when Ezra had brought it down from Scotland.

“How did you… from the distillery?” He asked, slowly sitting down on Ezra’s bed and holding the bottle reverently.

“It is.” Ezra beamed, getting their wine glasses and moving them to the nightstand to be more easily reached. “I admit, I’ve had it for almost a year. I nearly gave it to you for your birthday, but then that gorgeous plant caught my eye and I thought… the scotch will hold.”

“It will.” Anthony smiled. Then it fell. “Oh, my present to you looks so cheap now.”

“It’s the thought that counts, you know.” Ezra reminded him.

“Yeah, but… you don’t… it’s going to be terribly lame.” 

“I’ll still love it.”

Anthony groaned, thrusting the gift bag in Ezra’s direction.

The first thing Ezra took out was, of course, the book.

“ _Fool_ ,” Ezra read the cover. “What’s it about? Do you know?”

“It’s about the fool from Lear. A different spin on it. It’s taking the tragedy and turning it into a comedy, okay.” Anthony had said.

“So, the author defiled Shakespeare,” Ezra asked skeptically.

“No, the author improved Shakespeare. We need to laugh more. You’ll like it angel, promise.”

Ezra snickered, setting the book reverently aside, then delving back in the bag.

Anthony had gotten him wine and tea as well, of course, but there was a little added something that Anthony couldn’t have left in the gift shop if he wanted to. It was just too perfect, too Ezra.

“Oh,” Ezra cooed, and Anthony glanced at him, seeing he’d found the white mug with angel wings as a handle. “Oh my dear, I adore it.” He said with a smile that lit up his eyes.

“Yeah? Not too… on the nose or anything?” He asked, uncertain.

“No, it’s perfect,” Ezra assured, reaching across and squeezing Anthony’s arm.

They held each other’s gaze for far too long for it to be friendly, and Anthony found he couldn’t keep his mouth shut over what he heard outside the door.

“Oscar wants to get back together?” He asked, gesturing for the wine on the nightstand. 

Ezra grabbed both of them, handing one to Anthony.

“We ran into each other when I got back a few days ago,” Ezra explained. “He asked if I was free for lunch, and I was, so I agreed. It went lovely, of course, because it always had. But, I realized that nothing changed for me. I … love him. But it struck me quite intensely that I wasn’t _in_ love with him, and I don’t think I ever was. He asked if we could, perhaps, try again, and I… I don’t think it’s a good idea. But, in true Oscar fashion, he wants me to think on it for a few days.”

“So… you’re not going to, then?” Anthony asked before taking a sip of the wine.

“No,” Ezra said. “No, I’m quite sure that I should, perhaps, not see anyone for a bit. Frankly, with the TA position, and my own school work, I really don’t have the time. I can barely socialize with Gabriel without it being a hassle.”

“Bet he’s sad.” Anthony snickered.

“Well, dear, he’s, um, heard of how we have hung about and he’s quite keen on just being present while I do my work when term starts again.”

“So, I get to see Gabe’s lovely face with yours,” Anthony added. “That’s, of course, if the Internet isn’t going to be complete shit in my new flat.”

“Oh, you’re getting a flat!” Ezra perked up.

“Not by choice,” Anthony grumbled. “Dad’s forcing it. I get to be babysat by a bloke whose whole purpose is to lick his shoes and do his bidding. So, I’ll be having no one over ever, and will have to be terribly careful of how long I’m away.”

“I’m sorry, dear,” Ezra said softly. “He’s really….”

“He really doesn’t want me to be me, is what it is,” Anthony said bitterly. “But, ‘nough ‘bout that. Really don’t want to see… anyone? Like, no dating?”

“No,” Ezra said firmly. “I,” he paused, glancing at Anthony fleetingly. “I want,” he deflated a little, somehow. “I want to focus on school. I can’t do that if I allow myself to … mingle.”

“Won’t you miss sex?” Anthony whispered conspiratorially. “Even just a little?”

Ezra giggled, blushing a little. “I will miss the intimacy. But I won’t miss sex for the pleasure of it.”

“I do,” Anthony replied.

Ezra frowned. “But, how? Don’t you… don’t you… mingle?”

“Why the euphemisms?” Anthony laughed. 

“I find myself feeling awkward and flustered about it,” Ezra admitted. “I’ve had one boyfriend, one partner since I was seventeen. I hadn’t realized it left me a bit stunted until recently. I can talk about sex, of course, and the fact that I have previously engaged in it. But for some reason dating… and … _that_ … with someone else. I don’t know. I suppose I'm being a bit modest in my own way. We both know I’m a bit of an old silly.”

“You’re a bit of something alright,” Anthony smirked. “And, yes, I ‘mingle’, but I haven’t been for a while. No one of interest.” He lied, looking at the most interesting person he knew.

“I know what you mean,” Ezra said, eyes darting about Anthony’s face in a pleasant way. “Well, mum is going to be hosting, and Eliza is going to be talking to her boyfriend. This one, you may be interested to know, has lasted a full three months.”

“Oh, who is it?” Anthony asked.

“I never met him, unfortunately. He seems charming enough, though from what I’ve heard.”

“Well, that’s one of us things are going well for, then. So, what do you propose?” Anthony asked, scooting up the bed to sit beside Ezra.

He smiled shyly. “I’ve missed our movie nights horribly. Would you be terribly opposed to a Christmas film, held up in here while my mother’s party is ongoing?”

“Love to.” Anthony agreed readily, basking in the joy in Ezra’s eyes as he retrieved his laptop for them to watch the movie on.

**2009**

~A~

He was beginning to wonder if it even happened. 

It had been a month since that night, Deidre and Arthur having a housewarming for the small but lovely home they rented just outside London. Ezra had made the special trip out, for while Diedre wasn’t a close friend, she had been around his entire teenage life. What’s more, she’d extended the invitation to not just him, but Anthony, too.

There had been alcohol, of course, there usually always was. It somehow came up during all the conversation and whatnot that Ezra hadn’t seen anyone romantically since Oscar, and he was keeping it that way. Apparently going nearly a year without any sort of romantic affection was going to do some damage to him in some way.

“I dare you to kiss someone. Just get a good snog in.” Eliza had dared him after far too much to drink.

“I can’t just kiss a stranger.” He’d protested.

“Fine, kiss Anthony.” Eliza had challenged, calm as possible. “Doesn’t have to be a long one, just kiss him real quick on the lips before you forget how it works.” She had continued, and soon Deidre was getting in on it. And someone else, one of Arthur’s friends, maybe? He was surer, but he caved and had given Anthony a peck before deciding his wine needed a top off.

Ezra had gone into the kitchen and had tried to make himself calm, when he felt hands on his waist, turning him around. He hadn’t needed to know whose hands they were, he was familiar enough with them. What he hadn’t expected was to feel them move to his face, holding him there when lips he only briefly got acquainted with were suddenly devouring his own.

It had been….

Oh, it was so much better than Ezra had imagined. Dreamed. Than Oscar.

He shouldn’t make those sorts of comparisons, he knew that, but while Oscar was always nice, always pleasant, Anthony had made him feel things.

And then someone popped in the kitchen long enough to snag a bottle off the nearest counter, and that was that. Anthony turned around and walked out shortly after as if nothing at all happened. 

Maybe it didn’t? 

Eliza had always threatened to sneak him some special baked good when he least expected it. Perhaps it had happened then, and he hallucinated the whole thing.

Because Ezra would have thought that Anthony would want to talk about it.

Or, which was something that felt worse than an overactive imagination, Anthony didn’t remember.

And how could he possibly bring it up? What was Ezra going to possibly say? “I like what you did with the plant arrangement by the window, also, do you remember when you snogged me senseless at Deidre’s because I would like for it to happen again?” No, he wasn’t going to say that.

Especially when Anthony’s extremely vigilant (nosy) neighbor could overhear them. Anthony’s father hadn’t lied to him when he said the walls were thin, Anthony had called him angel once over the call, and the next day the intern warned him he’d heard him. He’d let it go, of course, but his job was on the line, and the nickname would be something James would want to hear about.

He really missed being called "angel".

In the meantime, he would continue replaying the snog in his head. 

The awful taste of what Anthony had been eating paired with the delicious scent of him. How his lips were just slightly chapped, and how Anthony’s touch was reverent in contrast to how utterly voracious his lips were. The feel of Anthony’s back muscles as they played beneath Ezra’s fingers, the way he could feel Anthony’s heart pound in his chest. How hips were pressed together in just such a way that-

“Ezra!”

He startled out of the memory, very grateful for the table he’d been sitting at. It had been a nice day, after all, and the prospect of grading outside had been too tempting. He just happened to get very, very distracted.

He looked up at Gabriel who was grinning wide, chuckling at him. “Sorry, you were just,” he made a face, something that Ezra assumed meant he’d been quite out of it. 

He blushed. “It’s fine.” He grinned awkwardly. “So, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Well, there’s a party Saturday night,” Gabriel began, but Ezra was immediately shaking his head.

“No, you know I can’t. Saturday night is when Anthony and I are both free and there’s less of a chance of his neighbor overhearing every detail of our conversation.”

“Yeah, no, that’s… no big deal. How about Sunday? We could… get coffee? Maybe-maybe dinner?”

“Sure,” Ezra said, nodding, waving his hand about with a slight grin. “Dinner would be lovely.”

And a distraction. Maybe he could even talk to Gabriel about the whole situation while they were there. He had been fairly helpful when he needed to talk to someone about Oscar and Anthony hadn’t been around.

“Great! That’s great! So, I’ll swing by your dorm, and,” He shrugged with a manic grin. “Pick you up at five?”

“Sounds wonderful.” Ezra agreed, tapping his pen against his hand while taking deep breaths. “What are you up to, by the way? You couldn’t have come to find me just to ask me that.”

“Oh,” Gabriel said, pleasantly surprised. “Well, I did, but I don’t have to be anywhere. Just have some studying to do.”

“Why not join me, then? It’s a lovely day, and the company might help keep me on task.” Ezra grinned, gesturing to the empty space across from him.

Gabriel eagerly sat down, and Ezra puzzled at the sheer joy Gabriel exuded. It was hardly like they’d never done this before, hanging around the two of them. And it happened more so since Anthony had been away. But, even after a few seconds, Gabriel was still grinning like he’d won some sort of lottery, and Ezra decided to shrug it off and try to focus on his work.

~*~  
  


Ezra kept looking at the computer screen every few seconds, though he wasn’t desperate. No, desperate would be bad or needed. It’s just, well, Anthony was supposed to be online at eight, and now it was eight-thirty, and he still hadn’t signed in. And, of course, Ezra being Ezra, he’d already been waiting for an hour. Anthony hadn’t really returned his texts, either. 

About ten minutes ago, Ezra had text Gabriel to find out where this party or gathering or whatever was. Gabriel had replied right away with the address of a house just off campus where something like this happened often. Five minutes ago, Ezra told him he was going to head over but hadn’t worked the nerve up to leave yet. What if Anthony came online just as he was leaving?

So he wasn’t terribly surprised by the knock on his dorm room door, and he had to take a moment to steel himself against the prospect of dealing with Gabriel’s urging for him to just go, forget Anthony, all that rot. 

“Gabriel,” He said as he opened the door. “Just- oh!” He said as he opened the door to Anthony.

“Yeah, sorry I was late and all.” He smirked. “Know we had a meeting for eight, but the train was a bit slower than expected, then getting a cab here was brutal.”

“Oh,” Ezra said again, “I. It’s alright. You,” he pointed at the computer, then turned back to Anthony with his hands over his mouth. “Oh,” He grinned.

“My babysitter _really_ wanted to stay at his girlfriend’s tonight. So, I slipped him a nice, large pound note, told him that if dad asked I had a very loud girl over, or I was working, or whatever he wanted. Just for one night. But I can’t stay long, I’m going to need to head back to London early.”

Ezra reached out and hugged him tightly, as tight as he could. “You could have texted!” He exclaimed into Anthony’s jacket.

“I wanted to surprise you!” Anthony protested as his arms came around him. “Why, got some big plans now?”

“Well, as a matter of fact, I do have plans,” Ezra said as he stepped back a little. “You looked as though you weren’t going to show up, so I told Gabriel I’d meet him at this gathering that’s happening. I did text you that, you know. If you’d have checked your phone.”

“I have it off to save battery. Was a bit of a spontaneous trip, this.” Anthony smirked.

“It was, wasn’t it? And It was a wonderful surprise. But, now we should be going.” Ezra grabbed his jacket and slipped it on. “Shall we?” He asked, offering Anthony his hand.

Anthony took it almost immediately, and they left the building hand in hand.

Maybe he didn’t forget. Or, if he did, maybe Anthony would still not be terribly opposed to repeating the kitchen incident in a less drunken state.

Ezra just had to work up the nerve to talk to him about it.

They were relatively quiet on the way there, simply basking in being in one another’s presence. At least, that’s what Ezra was doing. He was reveling in being in Anthony’s physical space, feeling his warmth next to him, catching the whiff of his cologne on occasion.

“I really missed you,” He said when it became too much, just as they got to the gate of the address given to him by Gabriel.

“Missed you, too, angel,” Anthony smirked back, giving his hand a squeeze before they turned toward the house.

~*~

Ezra had no idea what happened.

They arrived at the house, and things were fine. They mingled, and maybe they didn’t hold hands after they entered the house, but that was normal for them. That’s how they always were. More often, the hand holding would have ended long before their arrival. He couldn’t have said who let go first, but he was beginning to wonder if it would have mattered.

Ezra got called away, just for a moment, and he thought he heard Anthony mention something about saying hello to someone he knew. 

Ezra had watched him over his shoulder. He saw Gabriel and had pointed Anthony out to him, to say “look who came!” When he looked back a little bit later, as soon as it was polite enough to, Anthony was gone, and Gabriel was speaking to who Anthony had been. Probably a classmate.

He’d excused himself then and went in search of Anthony. The house wasn’t terribly big, so it didn’t take him long. 

Anthony was in the kitchen, only this time he was the one crowded against the counter. And he didn’t look overly perturbed by that.

Fine, it was fine, of course, because maybe he didn’t remember that he was in the same position Ezra had been in a month ago, at least very near. The snogging hadn’t started but it seemed inevitable. So, well, that means they would have to have a conversation. He just had to figure out how to broach the subject.

He left the kitchen a bit dazed, a bit nauseated, but all the more determined. 

Until he wasn’t.

Gabriel handed him a drink but he didn’t take so much as a sip from it. He couldn’t bring himself to do it. Ezra, instead, kept watching the kitchen to see if Anthony would come out. 

It took an awfully long time, and the bloke, because apparently, it was a bloke who had him crowded in there, left first.

Anthony didn’t exit for some time, and when he did, he moved straight for the front door.

Maybe it had been a mistake to follow him, but Ezra did it anyway. He had to.

“W-where are you going?” Ezra asked as he made it outside.

Anthony slowed to a stop but didn’t turn around right away. Instead, he looked down at his feet or the ground. 

“Was a mistake coming out here.” He said easily with a shrug.

“Oh.” Ezra began to wring his hands. “Yes. I suppose it was.” Anthony tensed. “Well it’s just, well, your father might find out, and that probably won’t end well.”

“Find out… what, exactly?”

“Well,” Ezra swallowed, finding it hard to navigate Anthony’s tone. He seemed angry, perhaps bitter, but Ezra had no idea why. “Well, you’ve, umm, well with me. You’re here fraternizing-”

“Fraternizing?” Anthony snarled.

Ezra swallowed again, this time trying to keep his heart out of his throat. “Well, whatever you wish to call it. What w-with you attending-”

“I have plenty of people to ‘fraternize with, Ezra.” Anthony turned on his heel to face Ezra. 

Ezra frowned, shaking his head. “Of course you do.” He said as though it were obvious, his tone a bit placating, trying to calm him down. 

“Plenty of fucking people.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Ezra half-snapped. “You were always infinitely more popular than I was. I hardly need it rubbed in my face.”

“Yeah?” Anthony said, taking a step closer to Ezra, leaning in. “Who’s rubbing what in whose face, eh? Take me to a party-”

“You could have just said you didn’t want to come.” Ezra grits out.

“And let down _Gabriel?”_ He said in a taunting way that Ezra didn’t like.

His nostrils flared, “And who was the bloke in the kitchen, Anthony? You two looked very close when I went to find you.”

Anthony seemed to deflate a little at that, and for just a second, Ezra thought he’d talked him down.

Then he scoffed, flopping his hands about and retreating. “You know what? This is ridiculous. You are ridiculous, I don’t even know why I’m still talking to you.”

“You don’t- we’re-”

“We’re what?” Anthony shouted. “What are we, Ezra? Huh?”

“How can you ask that?”

“Because I don’t fucking know anymore. Every time I think we’re…. You know what? Doesn’t matter, I don’t need you.”

There was a pause in which time stretched on forever. Ezra’s ears began to ring. 

“W-what?” Ezra whispered. 

“I said, I don’t fucking need you!” Anthony shouted, turning back around and walking away.

“Yes, well… the feeling is mutual.” Ezra shot back.

“Obviously!” Anthony spat over his shoulder.

“Obviously.” Ezra glared, watching his best friend walk away into the night. 

He waited out on the step, expecting that at any moment, Anthony would come back. He always came back.

He waited.

And waited.

And waited.

The door opened behind him, and the bloke from the kitchen stumbled out, swaying a bit. When he spotted Ezra, he smiled.

“Y-y-you came with the hot ginger bloke, didn't you?” he asked, jabbing at Ezra’s arm.

“I did.” He said stiffly.

“Fuck, he was wild. Think I got scratches on my scalp. He gonna be around again?”

Ezra blinked at the man, his eyes starting to tingle. He glanced at the road where Anthony disappeared, and he shook his head.

“I don’t know.”

~*~  
  


He waited. 

And waited.

He had gone back to his room late, hoping the whole walk back that he would find Anthony on his bed, and they would make up. Talk it out. Something, anything.

But when he got back, he was alone. 

He didn’t sleep.

He waited.

He had his phone at his side, a text typed and deleted and retyped so many times. He sent a simple _call me, please_ at sunrise. He waited at his computer, watching for Anthony to come online.

And waited.

And waited.

He didn’t eat, because it meant getting up and leaving the computer for any length of time. His bathroom breaks were speedy, and he wondered in heart-sick fear if maybe, just maybe, in that five-minute break he somehow missed Anthony.

The sun through the window shifted and set, and still, Ezra waited.

And waited.

And waited.

There was a knock on the door, and he was out of his chair so fast it hit the desk.

But it was only Gabriel.

Dressed very nicely.

“Ready to go, sunshine?” He asked eagerly.

“Sorry?”

“Our date!” Gabriel cheered. “Remember? Dinner?”

“Oh,” Ezra frowned. “I… I hadn’t realized you were asking… that.” He shook his head. “Gabriel, I’m terribly sorry. Truly, I had no idea that’s how you meant it. But, even if I had, I’m afraid… I’m afraid I’m simply not up for it.”

Gabriel looked him over then, and realization seemed to hit him. “You alright?” He asked.

“No,” Ezra said, tears threatening to erupt again. “No, I’m… I think… I think I might have said something awful. I can’t for the life of me figure out what it was. But…. Anthony won’t talk to me now. We’ve never… we’ve fought, but we’ve never….”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Gabriel said, cupping Ezra’s face and swiping away errant tears that escaped without Ezra’s permission. “He’s not worth these.”

“Oh, but that’s where you’re wrong. Quite wrong.” Ezra smiled sadly. “I suppose… I suppose I thought… but I was wrong. He was drunk, and I was wrong. And now… oh, it was…” he said as realization dawned on him.

Ezra moved to the bed, and sat down heavily, the weight of it all hitting him. 

“He did remember,” Ezra said quietly, looking up at Gabriel for a moment before his eyes fell on the angel mug on the desk. “Oh, he remembered and he… he doesn’t… and I…. Oh, what have I done?” He said on a sob before burying his face in his hands and letting everything out.

All these years. All those moments. Anthony had only ever meant for them to be friends. He wasn’t interested in Ezra that way, he never had been. And why would he be? 

He’d no idea how long he cried, or when Gabriel came to hold him while he did. Eventually, he passed out.

When morning broke, there was a note on his nightstand, stating Gabriel had gone back to his place to change for a run, and he’d be back with breakfast. He never left the time and Ezra didn’t know when he’d be back.

He found he didn’t rightly care.

He went to the desk, picking up his phone where he’d left it, seeing Anthony never replied to his text. 

He glanced at the computer, saw that Anthony wasn’t online, and collapsed in the chair.

Ezra sat vigil again until Gabriel came back with tea and a scone, and then he promised himself he wouldn’t sit vigil again.

~C~

He chose Gabriel.

All this time, all the waiting, and Ezra chose Gabriel.

Or… or had he?

Anthony could admit he had not reacted the best to hearing the news, though it took him a week to admit that. Having the smarmy, stupid faced Gabriel going on and on and on about how he asked Ezra on a date and Ezra agreed. How Ezra seemed to find the idea exciting, readily agreed, didn’t even ponder it. Just said yes.

Anthony couldn’t take it, listening to that. Jealousy had begun to boil so hot it was turning to rage. So, he went to the kitchen to grab a drink and instantly hated how it made him think of that incident before when he snogged Ezra. Of how Ezra hadn’t asked him to stay. How…

How Anthony himself was the one who walked away.

He stood by the counter in the kitchen feeling like a shit when the hot, dirty-blonde guy came in and started flirting, saying really dirty things to him. It was glimpsing who he thought might have been Ezra coming in and walking right back out that he had him going from zero to a hundred, and when the bloke had asked if he could get a taste of Anthony, he was helping the man undo his trousers.

He’d felt dirty after. He only vaguely remembered dirty blonde from being a year behind him when he was still at Oxford, and he didn’t even know his name. He’d never gone that far, or sunk that low, with anyone before. 

So he left. 

And that… made things worse. Because that meant he and Ezra could talk, without the distraction of noise or people, and didn’t that just make everything better?

_“Fraternizing.”_

The word stuck in his mind like gum to his shoe, and he spat it frequently when he was feeling pissed off enough.

“You know what it means, don’t you?” Ligur had asked him one day, about a month after the word had been sputtered first (and probably the hundredth time Anthony had used it as a bloody curse).

“Course I do.” He grumbled to his nearly-friend.

“Means to be friends with someone you’re not supposed to be,” Ligur said as if Anthony hadn’t answered. “You were saying it so much, had to look it up.”

That sat with Anthony another week, as he mulled it over. Because the truth was he hadn’t known the exact meaning. He just knew Ezra had been using odd euphemisms as of late.

He then spent three weeks deciding to just try and push Ezra out of his mind. The best way to do that, Anthony wagered, was to do the one thing he’d really been holding back on since Oscar and Ezra had broken up, and he’d gotten his hopes foolishly high.

He slept with a lot of curly-haired blondes, and he still felt like shit.

After that unhealthy binge had worked itself out, and he found he was no clearer-headed than before, he went to his computer to call up Ezra and demand he explain himself. But Ezra was offline, and leaving a message would circumvent the whole “I don’t need you” bit he’d tried very hard to maintain. He’d be crawling back to Ezra.

Anthony Crawley.

Not very attractive, that.

So he waited, and waited, and waited.

But Ezra never signed on. Not one time while he was checking. Odd, because, well, didn’t he want to talk to Liza?

Oh, Eliza. In theory, she and Anthony were in the same city, he could call her up, ask her to listen, to maybe convince her to get Ezra to talk to him.

But, well, she wouldn’t, would she? For one, that was her brother. And he remembered the way she looked at him at the beginning of his relationship with Freddie Martin, the only other time he and Ezra had ever spent this long not… anything.

Three months later, having played everything from that last night to the last year over and over in his head, Anthony realized something: he was an idiot.

Ezra probably had no idea that Anthony knew about the date. And, well, maybe Ezra didn’t remember the whole snog in the kitchen at Deidre’s. They had been drunk, and Anthony had a month and a half’s worth of “too drunk to remember” under his belt after waking up in a strange flat next to a strange blonde to fault Ezra if that were the case. 

Ezra probably thought that the mistake Anthony had made hadn’t been coming to see _him_ , in hopes that maybe they could connect romantically. Ezra likely thought the mistake had been coming to Oxford, _period_. After all, the intern next door couldn’t be trusted not to keep it secret, at least not then. Enough walks of shame in the aftermath tipped Anthony off that the intern either hadn’t been called on to answer any questioning, or he was damn good at lying. 

Ezra had probably been looking out for Anthony.

It’s what Ezra did. 

And after enough changes to try to bring Anthony under thumb, was it surprising that the spontaneous visit, to visit a known gay man, was likely what Ezra would hone in on? That he would worry that the trip would be one step too far?

 _Oh, I’ve been_ such _an idiot._ Anthony thought. _A stubborn, jerky idiot._

He had waited out Oscar, he could wait out Gabriel, too.

But, clearly, the email Ezra used for video calling wasn’t likely going to be the one he’d check. It had been a couple of months since his last sign-on, maybe he didn’t use it anymore?

But the Oxford one, he definitely used that one. At least, he would for sure for at least another week, maybe longer if Anthony was lucky.

He had found the address in his personal email contacts, set himself up to compose an email, and stared at the screen for hours.

In the end, instead of the long, eloquent words Ezra deserved, all Anthony managed to put was: _I’m sorry._

~*~

A couple of days later, there was a knock on the door, and Anthony eagerly went to answer it.

He stood stunned a moment. “You.”

He recognized him from A&E about seven years back. It was hard to forget a face that looked so painfully like one’s own, just without the snake-like eyes and with some facial hair.

The doctor looked nervous, shifting from side to side, taking him in.

“Erica said I could find you here, but she didn’t want me to come. But I… I had to.”

“Why?” Anthony asked, his heart in his throat. Then he shook his head. “Wait, just… not here. Let’s… let’s go for a walk. We can feed the ducks or some shit.”

“Okay,” The doctor said, nodding and glancing around the corridor while he waited for Anthony to gather his things.

~*~ 

Almost two weeks later, Anthony, or AJ as he now understood himself to be, returned to his flat with a painful incision, a bit less internal organ, a whole other family, and to an email in his inbox.

It was dated a few days ago, and the name made him want to cry from a whole different kind of pain.

He opened it, seeing it said simply: _I forgive you_.

AJ then went about the task of composing a long letter filling Ezra in on everything. Of Tony, and how he changed his name to reflect that he wasn’t James’ kid at all. About the sister and two brothers, and how he helped one of them. That he was so overwhelmed with shock at the idea that all this time he was a brother that he dropped his phone, and accidentally kicked the damn thing into the lake trying to pick it up. He had the same number, by the way, so if Ezra would just text him or call, they could talk again. 

He wrote how he did a lot of stupid things, but nothing as stupid as fighting with him over something as petty and stupid as a date with Gabriel. That, of course, he hoped it went well (even if he really didn’t).

That he was sorry. So very sorry about everything.

AJ hit send.

Within an hour, he got the notice that the student’s email had expired, and could he please find another method of contact.

AJ waited for Ezra to come online for three days, to see if maybe there was still a chance that his words wouldn’t go to waste.

Ezra never did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does it help knowing the next chapter is 2019 fluff?  
> I was going to call this one "Miscommunication Leads to Fallout", but I thought it was too on the nose.  
> Until next time.
> 
> Chapter title from "The Chain" by Ingrid Michealson


	22. From A Bird's Eye View, I Can See We Are family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FLUFF! enjoy.

**2019**

“You sure about keeping them here?” Anthony asked as he collected his keys and wallet from the table, looking down at Ezra where he sat with the morning paper and cup of tea. “It’s not like I can’t take a couple minutes to bring you lot around to-” And here he stumbled, which Ezra found increasingly adorable.

Because the truth was, neither of them really knew what to call each other’s main dwelling. And what could be considered the main dwelling anymore? They may have spent more days and nights at the Crowley residence, but the four of them would also migrate to the Fell flat now and again. The point of it was that, since Ezra finished teaching for the academic year, there wasn’t a single night when they weren’t all together. So far that was three weeks, and it didn’t seem like it was going to change anytime soon.

Secretly, Ezra loved every domestic second of it. He suspected he was obvious, but he’d been wrong about that before.

“We’ll be fine, love.” He smirked up at Anthony. “I plan to take the boys to the park for the day. After the rain of last week, I think they need fresh air and sunshine. There’s a picnic lunch packed in the fridge, as well, so we won’t even have to come back here unless it seems like they’re going to need a nap.” And then, leaning forward and getting Anthony to the same, he added in a whisper. “And wouldn’t it just be a complete shame if they were so tired they had to go to bed early? I mean, whatever would we do with them sound asleep?”

Anthony grinned madly. “Love the way your mind works.” He said before stealing a kiss. “I’ll be home in time for tea.” He added before taking another kiss.

“As you should be, it’s your night to cook,” Ezra said as he turned back to his paper and not reading a damn word. 

“Right,” Anthony nodded. “So, am I bringing home….?”

“I believe there was a request for Italian, though I’m sure anything would suffice,” Ezra smirked behind the paper, having known it was coming.

Anthony chuckled, “Love you, you bastard.”

“And I love you, darling,” Ezra replied.

“Boys, I’m leaving. Be good.” Anthony called out, the chorus of byes coming from down the hall saying he was heard.

Anthony darted his head around the paper to steal one more kiss before darting out the door. 

Ezra shuddered with the pleasure of how terribly domestic this all was. 

Since the beginning of summer break, he’d begun to feel more like a parent to both boys. He noticed that they were becoming less like friends and more like siblings, painfully and wonderfully reminiscent of him and Eliza. He and she were Irish twins, he wondered what two stepbrothers who shared a birthday would think of themselves as.

“Umm,” Adam said from behind Ezra, and he lowered his paper to look at the curly-haired boy. “Can we go to the park now that Anthony’s left for work?”

“Is Warlock dressed?”

“Yeah,” Warlock called, hopping down the hall while putting on his second sock.

“I suppose, then. I will need a moment to put a few things into a cooler for lunch, and then we’ll go.” He agreed and was pleased that the boys had at least learned to subdue their enthusiasm when inside the Fell flat. There _was_ a shop beneath, and he was fairly positive the owner wouldn’t like too much having the noise of not one but two little boys disturbing his customers. If he had any, Ezra wasn’t sure he’d ever seen anyone in there.

He went about packing their lunches in an insulated bag, then got ready.

The three of them headed out, the boys leading the way, holding hands as a habit from nursery when outside of the school, and soon they were settled in the park. Ezra had tea from the cart and his paper from the morning along with a novel. He was prepared for a wonderful morning of reading and relaxing in the sunshine.

Which is why he let out a very plaintive groan when he heard Gabriel calling his name from somewhere behind him.

“Hey, sunshine!” Gabriel exclaimed, coming up toward him in his jogging gear. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, I _had_ planned on reading,” Ezra said as politely as he could.

Gabriel dropped down beside him, close enough that Ezra had to slightly shift away from him so he wouldn’t feel so encroached upon.

“Where’s Adam?” Gabriel asked, pulling a small water bottle from a little belt around his waist.

Ezra frowned at it a moment before replying. “Playing with Warlock.” He gestured to the equipment, catching Warlock’s eye. He returned the little smile and wave he got from the boy, a small burst of love for him warming his heart as he went chasing after Adam in whatever game they cooked up together. 

“And Anthony’s…?”

“At work,” Ezra replied, because honestly, where else would he be?

“So he has you babysitting?”

“It’s not babysitting when it’s your child.” Ezra countered.

“Warlock _isn’t_ your child.” Gabriel reminded him

Ezra took a deep breath and decided this was a battle he didn’t want to fight. Technically, Gabriel was right. Emotionally, it felt like something very different. Even if he and Anthony weren’t officially living together, both families had toiletries permanently at the other’s dwelling. There were clothes belonging to everyone in the house and in the flat. A couple of house plants had found their way in Ezra’s living room, and there was a Fell tartan throw on the back of Anthony’s sofa. 

Neither could tell anyone the last time they woke up without the other, though at a guess it might have been four weeks ago. There was a routine down for all involved, and the boys didn’t think of either place as that of their friend’s, but just an extension of their own home.

Really, truly, they should just move in with one another already.

“What are you doing out here, anyway?” Ezra asked. “It’s Monday. _You_ should be working.”

“Vacation,” Gabriel replied. “I tried to take it next week, but it couldn’t be swung.”

“Why would you do that?” Ezra frowned.

Gabriel furrowed his brow. “Adam’s birthday.” And then with a chuckle, he added, “You didn’t forget, did you?”

“Of course not.” Ezra countered. “How could I possibly forget when the boys have been rambling on about nothing other than their birthday party for weeks now. I’m well aware of the day. Although I probably should tell you, the party will be on Sunday. Easier for their friends to attend.”

Gabriel blinked. “I’m not… going to Warlock’s birthday party.”

“Well, then you won’t be going to Adam’s either.”

“You’re _making_ him share his party?”

“I’m not making him do anything,” Ezra snapped back, silencing Gabriel and making him pale just a touch. “Adam and Warlock… they wanted this. They share a birthday, they were born literally minutes apart. Look at them, Gabriel, and tell me why you would think either of them would begrudge the other the chance for a special day all their own if that’s what they wanted.” He gestured violently to where the boys were playing, happily laughing and smacking sticks together like swords.

“Are you sure you’re not… projecting on them a little?” Gabriel asked, with just enough condescension that Ezra very nearly threw his tea in his friend’s face.

“What could I possibly be projecting, my dear?” He asked with a slightly clenched jaw.

Gabriel moved his mouth, but nothing came out. He looked over at the boys, then back at Ezra, then down at his feet.

“Forget it,” He said with a fake smile, getting to his feet and nearly walking away. He paused and turned back around. “Listen, are you going to be here for a while?”

“It was my intention, yes,” Ezra replied, looking pointedly at the paper and book he had on the table beside him.

“I’ll come back around, maybe you can… I dunno… tell me what you and Adam have been up to. Or, hey! Maybe we can talk about a weekend away to the seaside or something.”

“Gabriel, I don’t-”

“Later, sunshine!” Gabriel cut him off, jogging away before he could finish his sentence.

~*~

“You should’ve agreed,” Anthony said as they were doing the dishes together, and Ezra related the story of his morning to him.

“Why on _Earth_ would I have agreed to a weekend away with him?” He asked as he handed Anthony a plate

“Why wouldn’t you?” Anthony countered as he dried the plate and put it away. “No one said it had to be romantic. And, oh, for shame! I just happen to need to work that weekend, so it’s not like the boys can stay with _me._ ” 

Ezra rolled his eyes affectionately. “Somehow I doubt that would go over it well. As it was, he considered what I was doing with Warlock babysitting.”

He’d been watching Anthony out of the corner of his eye, so Ezra caught the way he tensed for a moment, his natural eyes flicking side to side for an instance.

“It… is what you’re doing, though. Isn’t it?” Anthony asked with false casualness. 

“I don’t know,” Ezra said carefully, watching Anthony as inconspicuously as possible while handing him the next plate. “I don’t really see what I do with Warlock as babysitting. It’s simply taking care of him, no different than what I would do with Adam.”

_Crash!_

“Sorry,” Anthony said instantly, tossing the dishtowel on the counter and gingerly walking through the shards of ceramic to the small broom nook off the kitchen.

“Are you alright?” Ezra asked.

“Yeah,” Anthony called.

“What broke?” Adam asked as he and Warlock rushed down the hall.

“Stop!” Ezra called. “There’s a broken plate, stay where you are.” He turned his attention to Anthony. “Are you sure alright, dear?”

“Yeah,” Anthony replied in a clipped tone as he returned with the broom and the dustpan. He began to clean up the shards. “Fuck, hope this wasn’t something special or valuable.”

Ezra scoffed. “Eliza bought the cheapest set she could find when she moved in, and we never bothered replacing them. And before you worry about sentimental value, I bought the same set for myself, which I gave to Newton.”

“Still. Sorry.” Anthony said as he seemed to get the last of the pieces. 

Ezra looked over his shoulder to see the boys had retreated back down to the room they shared. After Anthony dumped the shards and put away the dustpan, Ezra grabbed his arm, bringing Anthony close enough to circle his arms around his neck. 

Anthony frowned as Ezra studied his face.

“What happened, love?” He asked.

“Just dropped the plate,” Anthony replied quickly. 

“I don’t think that was it,” Ezra said gently.

“It’s all it was,” Anthony assured more reasonably, putting his arms around Ezra’s waist. “Thing was still a bit slippery and it fell from my hand, that’s all.”

He could push, of course. Ezra was damn well aware it was something he said that caused Anthony to lose himself for a moment. But he figured now was not the time. 

~*~

It was one of those nights, apparently.

Sometimes Ezra could get a sense when the insomnia was going to strike. Those nights were the easy ones. Read, at least a little longer than he normally would, then if nothing else he could lie down with his eyes closed in the dark and simply be. Those nights he got by fairly well the next day. Before Adam, he would take his medication at the first sign of a night with no sleep, and now he could feel comfortable doing so the nights Anthony slept over, or he over to Anthony’s. Which, of course, was actually becoming the new normal.

But tonight, he didn’t take the medication, because he didn’t think he would need it. He’d certainly felt tired enough, and he presumed any energy left would have been burned with the promised amorous activities.

The fact he was painfully awake next to a gently snoring Anthony said otherwise. 

He was rather lovely when he slept. But then, Ezra had thought Anthony lovely no matter when. Still, it wouldn’t do to spend the whole night staring at his love, pleasant as it might be. He was starting to grow a bit bitter over the ease in which Anthony could fall asleep.

So, carefully, quietly, he climbed out of bed and put on his night pants. They had a rule, unspoken but clear, that there was no sleeping naked when the boys could walk in on them. The door only remained locked during, not after things had taken place. Therefore, Ezra was already in boxers and his t-shirt, though the latter wasn’t strictly required. So, night pants acquired, he moved softly and near silently from the bedroom and headed for the living room.

Tadfield was the sort of city in which it was actually fairly quiet in the evenings and nights. The windows were open, allowing a coolness to float in and Ezra basked in it a little, not realizing how warm he’d gotten. He rested his head on the back of the sofa, closing his eyes, not really feeling like sleep was going to come to him, but maybe a bit of rest would.

He’d no idea how long he was sitting when the cushion shifted ever so slightly with the weight of someone sitting down.

Ezra opened his eyes and smiled gently at Adam.

“Nightmare?” He asked.

Adam shook his head. 

“Warlock snoring?”

Adam nodded with a slight grin, and Ezra giggled.

“Anthony did warn me Warlock gets a touch of hay fever now and then. He must have a bit of a stuffy nose.” He reached over and pulled Adam against him, playing with his curls a bit.

Adam made a sound, like he was about to say something but changed his mind.

“What is it?” Ezra asked soothingly.

Adam bit his lip a moment, looking entirely too apprehensive. Which, Ezra knew, usually meant he thought what he was thinking might get him in trouble.

“I miss mum,” He started. “But I’m not sad. And… I miss her, but… not… not like….” He frowned. “I’m not….”

Ezra frowned as he tried to understand Adam.

“Do you mean,” He began, still lightly running his fingers over Adam’s hair, “That you miss her because you don’t see her, and you love her? But… you don’t feel like you’re missing anything?” He tried to guess.

Adam hesitated, but then he nodded.

“I’m sad she’s not going to tell me her silly bedtime stories. And, I miss her hugs and her kisses. And sometimes when I think about her a lot I’m sad.” He sighed. “The older girl at the park today? She said her dad died a year ago, and she says she still misses him all the time. Like every day.”

“She probably hears her mum saying, and thinks she should too. People grieve differently, Adam.” Ezra explained. “And while you love your mum, and miss her, it’s okay not to feel like you miss her every day.”

“Do you miss her every day?” Adam asked.

Ezra considered it. “When your mum first died, I found it very difficult. She wasn’t just my sister, she was my best friend, and had been my whole life. But do you know who made it easier?”

“Anthony?” Adam asked.

“No, my darling boy. You.” Ezra smiled. “Anthony helped, of course. But it was having you around, having you to love and take care of, made missing your mum easier. Because with you, I will always have a part of her. And while I was only your uncle, you still have a bit of her with me, too.”

Adam nodded.

They were quiet a while when Adam sighed.

“I don’t have a mum or dad, so does that make me an orphan? Like Harry Potter?”

“You are far too young for Harry Potter,” Ezra grumbled.

“Mum said I was only allowed to see the first one,” Adam replied sheepishly.

Ezra stuttered. “See? _See_? Oh, good lord, we need to get you a book. I hear there are some lovely illustrated ones these days.” Ezra replied indignantly, getting a quiet giggle out of Adam. “No, you are not an orphan like Harry Potter. For one, the man who helped your mother have you is still out there. For another… well, I haven’t quite adopted you, but you are my child, legally speaking.” He frowned. “It doesn’t mean you wouldn’t be in the strictest sense of the word, of course, but it would make you much different than Harry Potter.”

Adam nodded sagely, as though he’d known this all along. Then he frowned.

“If… if I’m your child… does that mean you’re my dad?”

Oh. Well, he supposed he should have seen this one coming. He just didn’t expect the question to be posed at one in the morning. 

“Umm, well,” He pondered how to approach this. Admittedly, he probably should have spent more time wondering what he and Adam would become to one another now than he spent contemplating his relationship with Anthony. Perhaps, before blending their families, Ezra should have focused more on the dynamic of his own. “Yes.” He finally said. “I suppose it does.”

“Should I call you dad?” Adam asked.

Ezra’s heart skipped a beat. “If you’d like to.”

Adam scrunched his face. “Warlock calls Anthony dad. What if I call you dad and Anthony answers?”

“I don’t think he would,” Ezra replied.

“He did yesterday,” Adam said before cracking a mighty yawn. “It slipped out. And he didn’t say anything.”

Ezra hummed, thinking it over. “When I was little, sometimes I called my father ‘papa’.”

“Papa,” Adam repeated it. “Like pop-pop.”

“I suppose it’s close.” Ezra agreed, watching Adam yawn again. He smiled, then scooped the boy up. “Back to bed.”

“But papa.”

“No buts,” Ezra said, surprised by how hard the new name hit him. He had to take a deep, steadying breath to continue. “You’re too little to be up this long this late.”

He was pretty sure Adam was back to sleep before he even made it back to the bedroom. And Warlock was snoring, though not overly loud. Perhaps enough to disturb a restless, little mind heavy with thought.

As Ezra tucked him in, it dawned on him that Adam hadn’t actually called him “uncle Ezra” in weeks. He supposed he understood why that was now, though he hadn’t noticed it beforehand. Hindsight was an interesting thing.

He wondered, smoothing Adam’s hair back, then Warlock’s, if Eliza would be alright with it. 

He wanted to imagine she would be. She likely would have.

It had been a while since he wondered if she would be alright with how he was raising her son.

The reality was, Adam would be his son for longer than he was hers.

He just hoped as he closed the bedroom door, that he was making her proud regardless.

~C~

Six days ago, Crowley dropped a plate in Ezra’s kitchen because he so leisurely said that taking care of Warlock was no different than what he’d do with Adam, and he’d been losing his mind a little every day since.

This couldn’t be real. This was some crazy dream he managed to cook up, this wonderful world where Ezra was back in his life and saw Warlock as another son.

But it wasn’t, mostly because he would never have dreamed of Ezra being called “papa”. 

The first time Crowley heard it had been breakfast the morning after the dish incident. He was having his coffee as the boys came in, Warlock greeting them the same as always, and then Adam casually said, “Morning, Anthony. Morning, papa.”

He told the story to Anathema, to Eric over the phone when he called the shop for Anathema, to Bea when they called to complain about Eric calling Anathema. Crowley was so terribly enamored by this new thing that he grinned like an idiot every time Adam said the word.

He was getting some funny looks at home these days.

But as far as he knew, Anathema was the only one of their inner circle who knew. And Crowley was desperate to see the reactions others had to it as they heard it. And saw, of course, how easily Ezra adapted to it.

“Darling, did you get the cups?” Ezra asked as they worked on setting up the table for party food and drink. 

“I did,” Crowley replied, glancing over at Ezra. “They should be in the box behind you, angel.”

Ezra twisted around and looked down. “Oh,” he said simply before plucking them up and stripping off their plastic. He looked them over. “We probably should have put stickers on them. Dinosaurs, or little pirate ships.”

“No one, not even the boys, are going to care if the cups are just green,” Crowley assured, sounding more exasperated than he really was. After all, he was the one who fretted for an hour the night before over whether they should have had the _Happy Birthday Adam and Warlock_ banner in separate pieces. Or two banners, one each. Ezra had to remind him that the clothesline in the back garden wasn’t terribly long and that he was perhaps overthinking things.

Ezra set the cups top down on the table. “I just want the day to be perfect.” He stressed, gesturing at the table. “It’s…. It’s a lot more than just their birthday party, isn’t it?” He said, turning to Crowley and wringing his hands. “It’s a bit of our coming out, too.”

“In what way?” Crowley asked.

“Well, this is the first thing, first _big_ thing with others involved for me as Adam’s dad. His fifth birthday, which feels somewhat significant in its own right. And, well, it’s a bit of a coming out as a couple for us, too.” Ezra flapped his hands about. “We’ve been together for a couple months, of course. But… your family. Your _whole_ family, they don’t know. And, well… I just….” He sighed. “I don’t have any family left to worry about, save for Adam, and he adores you. I barely have friends, and the ones I do have have known you forever, it seems. But you? You have family and friends I have never met. And, well, it almost feels like I’m piggybacking on you, on this.” He said gesturing about Crowley’s back garden, decorated for the day's events complete with a bounce house. “I could never have afforded to do something like this for Adam on my own.”

“It’s not piggybacking, angel. It’s for both of them.”

“I know.” He replied. “But your family would think I’ve-”

“The _boys_ wanted this, remember that through the day,” Crowley assured, stepping closer. “Warlock is _thrilled_ to bits over this, know why? It’s his first party with friends his own age. He’s never had that before.”

“How so?” Ezra asked.

Crowley shrugged, stepping up to Ezra and holding on to him. “Warlock… didn’t fit in. Got teased a lot in his old nursery. Didn’t have a lot of friends, and he didn’t care enough about the ones he did have to want them around for a birthday. This? There’s a cake, and a bounce house and his best friend is guaranteed to be by his side. Best birthday ever, you’ll see.”

Ezra nodded, first pressing his forehead to Crowley’s, and then it was their lips. Quiet, calm pecks to comfort and assure, and nothing terribly out of the ordinary for them.

“Sorry to interrupt an intimate moment,” Erica said, and Ezra startled so terribly, he jumped back as if they were fifteen years old again, being caught snogging. Not that any of that had taken place between them at fifteen.

Regrettably.

“Hey, mum,” Crowley replied casually.

“Oh, Dr. Crowley. How, er, lovely.” Ezra started, his hands moving about. “Is, um, are you…?”

“James doesn’t come to these,” Crowley answered Ezra’s unfinished question, lightly running his hand up and down Ezra’s back. “He considers it beneath him.”

“Oh,” Ezra said. “Well, shall I go inside and get the boys, then? Now that they officially have a guest?”

“Go on, angel,” Crowley said, making him flustered just a little more with a quick kiss on the cheek. The smirk Ezra gave said he liked it. The look in his eye as he went inside promised retribution.

Either way, Crowley was pleased.

“So,” his mother began after Ezra was inside. “Things are going well, then?” She asked, moving to the empty table in the yard and setting the bag she was carrying down.

“They are,” Crowley agreed. “I’m trying very hard, to be very good, and not ask him to move in with me.”

“Why would you do that?” Tony’s voice came from behind him, and Crowley smiled at him over his shoulder. His dad, too, brought a bag and set it on the table.

“Because we haven’t even technically gone out on a proper date yet,” Crowley replied as he watched his mother unpack two presents from the bag. “H-hold on. We _did_ say you didn’t have to bring a gift for _both_ boys, right?”

“Will they each be getting one from their friends?” Erica asked, reaching for Tony’s bag and unpacking that one as well. Another two presents.

“Well… yeah. But, that’s different.” Crowley frowned. Then, he rushed to add. “Not that it’s a bad thing you did for both, it’s not.”

“You were just going on about moving in together a second ago, so it’s pretty serious, right?” Erica asked. “So, shouldn’t I, theoretically, be prepared for a second grandson?”

Crowley looked between his parents, Tony eagerly expecting an answer.

“Ngk,” Crowley sputtered. “Probably? I… moving in… but that’s….”

The boys came out then, blessedly letting him off the hook.

Warlock, of course, ran over to Erica shouting, “Nana,” before diving into her arms for a hug. Adam trotted out more subdued -but in no way sad- pace.

It still managed to break Crowley’s heart. 

The night before, they had a discussion with the boys about the party. Ezra explained to Adam that there was a chance Warlock might get more presents than him, but it didn’t mean he was liked or loved any less. It was simply because there was going to be family of Warlock’s there that may not have thought to do a gift for both of them. Crowley had told Warlock that any gifts from people who didn’t get one for Adam would be opened separately, set aside for a later time. 

But it was a reminder that Warlock had an overabundance of family. He had a father, and uncles, and an aunt, grandparents, and a soon to be cousin. Ezra and Adam had each other.

Erica hugged Warlock tight, then looked up at the curly-haired five-year-old just a few feet away, waiting stoically for a clue as to what to do. “You must be the other birthday boy.”

Adam nodded.

“Do you want a hug, too?” She asked as Warlock stepped away.

Adam looked to Ezra.

“She’s not a stranger, dear, I’ve known her for nearly twenty years.”

Adam looks back at Erica with wide eyes. “You’ve known papa for twenty years? How?” He asked, causing the adults to laugh.

“I knew him when he was a young man,” Erica replied as she opened her arms.

Adam went shyly but willingly.

Tony began to talk to Warlock, and then when Adam was released, spoke to him as well. 

Crowley watched them, a melancholy sort of happy washing over him as it seemed Adam instantly took to Tony. How Warlock took Tony by the hand to pull him around and show him the small garden because they had a garden now. And did you know, Ezra and Dad might build a treehouse for us? He treated Tony almost like a grandparent anyway, but couldn’t know that Tony _was_ his grandfather. Adding Adam to the mix, seeing him brighten at being included in the whole thing made it painful and wonderful.

Eventually, the kids and their parents began to show up. Ezra was at the back gate and greeting everyone as they came, directing parents where to put the gifts (complete with little labels for the side of the table in case they weren’t marked. He assured the parents they were welcome to stay if they wanted, that there would be plenty of other grown-ups around that didn’t even have children the boys’ age, if at all.

Crowley had to do a double-take when Oscar showed up, Isabel strapped to him, and without Richard. Watching him and Ezra share a half embrace was only a little horrible to witness. Then Anathema showed up, surprisingly with Newt, followed closely by Marjorie, who Crowley was starting to wish he knew a bit more since she was an utter hoot. She went for Anathema, the two hugging and smiling, greeting each other warmly.

Crowley turned his attention to the kids, who flocked to the bounce house, then back to Ezra just in time to see their next guest arrive.

“Forgive me for this,” Oscar said after placing a gift on each side of the table, glancing over his shoulder in the direction of Ezra and Gabriel, who’d just arrived and immediately went in for a hug. Hands-free, Oscar covered his daughter’s ears and said, “I hate that asshole. I always have.” He turned back to Crowley. “I honestly can’t imagine how you put up with him.”

“Ugh,” Crowley sneered. “I don’t, really. He’s Ezra’s friend, so I allowed the invite. Wouldn’t have been sporting of me, would it?”

“You know they….” Oscar asked, ruffling his daughter’s fine hair as he kept her ears covered. 

“Yeah,” Crowley replied. “And I know he’s still trying to, even though he knows we’re together. Did Ezra tell you that he asked Ezra to go away to the shore with him?” 

Oscar’s eyes went wide. “He did not,” He said with the appropriate level of disgust and intrigue. “What did Ezra say?”

And thus started their gossip, mostly surrounding the purple-eyed idiot they both seemed to hate, Oscar trading stories of his antics involving Ezra from while Crowley was away, and Crowley telling Oscar all the things Ezra probably didn’t from their days in University. 

“What are you two hens clucking about then?” Ezra asked as he joined them, touching Crowley’s arm a moment before bending slightly to look at Isabel. “Is daddy talking to Anthony about things you shouldn’t hear? Not with those lovely little ears?” He cooed, grinning as she cooed back.

“Would you like to hold her?” Oscar asked.

“Desperately,” Ezra admitted, standing straight with his hands out and ready in an instant. Crowley chuckled as Oscar smirked, unstrapping Isabel from her papoose, then handing her over. “Oh, you are a love,” Ezra said, looking damn near tears at how cute she was. He then brought her against his chest, her little head resting on her shoulder, giving her a little sniff. “Oh, sometimes I miss that smell. Not so much when it’s laced with the others, mind.”

“Did Ezra tell you that Richard was as bad as this when Adam was young?” Oscar offered to Crowley with a smirk. “Ezra would come into the city to see us, and-”

“Papa!” Adam shouted, halting the conversation.

A quarter of the party went silent. 

The kids didn’t, they carried on as if nothing different occurred. The parents of the other kids didn’t, they just glanced over at the outburst, seeing one birthday boy run after the dads, the second one trailing behind.

It was everyone else that stopped, and Crowley basked in the surprise. 

Newt looked utterly perplexed, as though Adam had suddenly spoken an entirely different language and Newt was the only one in the garden who didn’t understand it. Marjorie looked only slightly less confused, but in a way that made it appear that she wasn’t sure she should be happy about the change. Oscar seemed a bit put out, and looked to Crowley fleetingly as if maybe that’s the bit of gossip he should have led with. 

Gabriel’s eyes were so wide they looked damn near ready to roll out of his head. _Maybe he wasn’t so open to the whole package, after all_ , Crowley thought to himself, a touch smugly.

“What is it, dear?” Ezra asked, turning to the boys.

“Brian’s getting a dog!” Adam replied.

“That sounds lovely, dear,” Ezra replied as Gabriel slowly came over to join them all.

“Can we have a dog, papa? Please? I promise to take care of it.” Adam begged.

Ezra chuckled. “Adam, even if I did believe you were old enough to handle a dog on your own, where would he go? We have a flat.”

Adam shrugged. “He could stay here.” He said, gesturing around the garden.

“We don’t live here.”

Warlock frowned, “You don’t?” He asked, looking to Adam who seemed equally confused by this news.

Ezra chuckled, “no, loves. We don’t.”

“I think we do and he just forgot,” Adam told Warlock, the two nodding in agreement.

Over their heads, out of view but clearly listening, Erica and Tony gave Crowley a very pointed look, but continued their conversation with the Wensleydales.

“Okay, you two,” Crowley said. “Doesn’t matter anyway, because you heard….” He gestured at an amused Ezra because this was where it seemed to be tricky. Technically, Ezra was just Ezra to Warlock, yet if they were just the four of them, and Crowley said: “papa” (complete with an utterly dopey grin), Warlock wouldn’t question it. Here, everyone else would. And while Crowley would love all of them to make assumptions, it was best to let it lie for now. “Him.” He said eventually. “No dogs until your old enough to actually take care of it on your own.”

“When will that be?” Warlock asked.

“Eleven.” Crowley randomly said. “You can ask about your hellhound then. Now, run along, we only get the bounce house until six.”

Not that either of the boys knew how to tell time very well, but the warning of a time frame, even four hours off, had them running for the bounce house as quickly as they could.

“Hell hound?” Ezra smirked.

“You know how I feel about dogs.”

“Anthony, love, you dislike large dogs.”

“Hellhounds,” he corrected.

Ezra leaned toward him. “Who said it had to be a big one.”

“Are we really discussing this now?”

“Of course not, I’m just making a point.” Ezra shrugged. “Now,” He grinned, giving Crowley a kiss on the cheek. “I’m going to take this little miss for a walk. Would you like that, Isabel? Would you like to see what the bigger kids are doing? Huh? Do you want to see them with all the pretty colors? Come on, we’ll give daddy some grown-up time.” He cooed, rubbing his hand on Isabel’s back as he headed to the bouncy house.

“Oh, I can’t look at that.” Crowley groaned.

“Why?” Oscar asked, confused.

“Because - I - It’s… Ezra with a baby, and it’s… just… look at him with her!” He said, watching as Ezra shifted her a little, pointing at the bounce house and glancing at her. Ezra was smiling the strange, wonderful sort of smile that Anthony had only seen in shadow with the boys. “He’s a damn natural, isn’t he?”

“He is,” Oscar admitted, glancing off to the side before turning to Anthony. “I remember when Adam was a baby, the days he’d give Eliza a break? Sometimes - rarely, mind - he’d come up to the city to visit Richard. I was going to tell you that bit before the boys came over, Richard was as bad with Adam as Ezra is with Izzy. And, let me say, I can not tell you how often people assume Ezra was Adam’s dad. Because he was just so utterly good with him, knew what every whimper and cry was. Heart stealer, he was.”

“Still is,” Gabriel piped up, smiling as he put his hands in his khaki pockets. “Ezra, I mean.”

“Of course. Gabriel, how are you?” Oscar asked stiffly, offering a hand for shaking, which Gabriel took. It was obvious he was tightening his grip on Oscar’s hand, and Crowley rolled his eyes as he glanced away.

“I’m good, I’m good. How are you, how are things?” Gabriel asked.

Oscar gestured toward Ezra and Isabel. “Busy, what with the new baby and all. And Richard still working most of the time.”

“How did you meet Richard?” Crowley asked, changing the subject to something he hoped Gabriel would be less interested in. Which made it very interesting when he clenched his jaw a little and glanced away.

Oscar smirked. “I met him through Ezra.”

“Really!” Crowley asked, glancing at his love. Ezra had attracted Anathema, Wensleydale’s mum, and Erica over to him, the three giving Isabel the celebrity she deserved. “He never mentioned that.”

“No?” Oscar asked, glancing at Gabriel with an amused twinkle. “Well, see, someone of their mutual acquaintance set them up on a blind date. They got on but found there was no chemistry. Had a bit of a laugh about setting each other up with friends of ours, seeing if maybe there was any luck there. Turns out there was. Richard and I were practically love at first sight.”

“Explains why Ezra was the best man at your wedding,” Crowley commented.

Oscar hummed and nodded. 

“Did… does Ezra like London? I know he was thinking of moving there, but… well, you said he’d been there with Adam, so after he moved to Tadfield. Did he… like it?”

“To live?” Oscar asked. “I don’t think so.”

“Now, come on,” Gabriel inputted. “What wouldn’t there be to like there? Can still get a nice townhouse, with a decent yard. Near a park, for Adam to play. Good schools, some top-notch ones, really.”

“Wasn’t asking to live.” Crowley scowled at Gabriel. “Just moved from there, know what it’s like. I’m asking… if I were to, say, take him away for a weekend-”

“With the kids?” Gabriel interrupted. “Cause there are some _great_ museums-”

“I _know_ ,” Crowley cut him off, turning back to Oscar. 

“A weekend he’d love,” Oscar assured. “And you know the sort of bloke he is, so you can imagine all the places he’d like.” 

“I do, I would. Hell, I already have ideas.” Crowley smirked, starting to imagine the weekend in his mind.

“Yeah,” Gabriel said in a falsely apologetic way. “It’s just too bad that, well, I don’t think there’s anyone more than willing to take Adam for a whole weekend.”

“Oh, you wouldn’t?” Oscar asked, turning his attention to Gabriel. “You wouldn’t want to watch Adam for Ezra?”

Gabriel made a face. “For a couple hours, yeah. But a weekend? I would do a weekend away _with_ Adam and Ezra, the three of us. I wouldn’t need to send him off, he’d be a part of it. But by myself? Well, if it had been a weekend Ezra needed for something else.”

“What does Ezra need a weekend for?” Tony asked, joining the three of them. 

“He doesn’t need anything.” Gabriel waved it off.

“Actually, Mr. Crowley,” Oscar started.

“Oh-” Crowley started.

“I’m not-” Tony pointed to himself

“He’s not- well he’s technically my-” Crowley pointed to Tony

“But we aren’t-” Tony gestured between them.

“He’s not,” Crowley finished, both he and Tony shaking their heads.

Gabriel looked as if he tasted something awful, and Oscar just nodded.

“Forget I said anything.” He said in way of apology.

“Anthony was just talking about a weekend away with Ezra.” Gabriel offered, changing whatever his face was doing to a phony smile that was peppered with a regret no one would believe. “But, well, no one to watch Adam.”

“I’ll take them both.” Tony offered immediately, looking to Crowley with eagerness. “Honestly, Adam is such a great kid, and you know I would take Warlock any time.”

“You sure, dad?” Crowley replied. 

“Would it get you a step closer to that thing we were talking about earlier?” He asked.

Crowley blinked. 

“Yes?” He said tentatively.

“Then you name the weekend. If I need to, I’ll rearrange my schedule with the hospital.” He promised. 

Crowley looked over to where Ezra was now bouncing Isabel next to the bounce house. Through the window of the inflated structure, Crowley could peek Warlock and Adam both peering through, bouncing while looking at the baby with wide grins.

It made Crowley damn near giddy in the most stupid of ways.

“Alright,” he agreed. “I’ll work it out.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> People will know that all I have to say for the last chapter is either "sorry" or "you're welcome" maybe a "thank you" because, you know, I love your comments, even if they're just emojis.  
> Next chapter we are going back to the past. It won't hurt as bad.
> 
> Chapter title from "The World As I See It" by Jason Mraz


	23. We Are Broken But We Are Moving Still

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're going to speed through a few years, here

**2009**

“The TA position really had me thinking about teaching,” Ezra explained to Oscar as they walked down the main street of their hometown at Christmas, nearly five months post-Anthony. 

He was not his best after the Incident, which was something he believed deserved a capital letter and perhaps a few trademarks after it. It half haunted his dreams at night, and when he allowed his mind to wander, he remembered Anthony saying how he didn’t need him.

Which, Ezra knew, had always been absolutely true. Anthony hadn’t needed him, but he was pretty sure he was wanted around most of the time. But maybe he had just become a bit too much of a fuddy dud for the smooth, cool ginger he adored so much. Perhaps, in his time away in London, Anthony had come to realize that Ezra wasn’t the sort of person he wanted to spend his time with. And the time they were together, in a party filled with people Ezra only passively knew, only solidified that. Plus there was the awful bit about how he probably regretted that drunken snog in Deidre’s kitchen and thought Ezra following him had been a clingy, desperate thing. 

It had haunted him for a reason, after all. That Ezra had said the wrong thing, did the wrong thing, made it so blatantly obvious he loved him without saying the words that Anthony lashed out in as hurtful way as he could manage to get Ezra off his back.

It worked, of course, it worked. Because Anthony had never needed him, it had always been the other way around.

Still, Anthony had apologized, and Ezra forgave him because how could he not? And he’d kept it brief and to the point, just like Anthony had. He didn’t write the paragraphs and paragraphs he desperately wanted to explain everything. To let Anthony know the door was always open, so to speak, because how could it not be after everything?

He had wondered if he did the right thing, not including the fact that he decided, in those last few months, not to continue at Oxford after all. He wouldn’t have put the real reason, it would be too much to say the city haunted him now. While the school still held it’s a wonderful link to his father, and the honor of continuing a Fell tradition, everywhere else was tainted, either by memories of Anthony or even that of the man whose company he was in now. 

And, he rationalized, a doctorate in English wasn’t likely to get him very far in life, perhaps as a professor in a university, or as a writer or editor, though that had no appeal. Especially not with that being the field Eliza was heading into. 

He didn’t, despite wanting to, tell Anthony how he thought about his suggestion and decided to go into teaching after all. Ezra didn’t think he really wanted to hear it, or cared to for that matter. But it was Anthony, as well as his mother, that influenced Ezra to gain his qualified teacher status. It was the latter that convinced him to move back home and gain it there. 

“That’s good.” Oscar agreed, “probably easier to find work that way than something strictly in academia.”

“That’s very true.” Ezra agreed. “And how are you? How have you been?” he asked as they stopped at a red light. 

Around them, snow fell, though not heavily. In the distance, Ezra could hear the faint sounds of Christmas carols being pumped out of a storefront speaker. The town was decorated in that just slightly tacky way so many were, but there still felt like there was something missing from the scene.

“I’ve been alright.” Oscar shrugged. “Been on a few _horrible_ dates, recently. One bloke rambled on about Thatcher for an hour. Which, I suppose, political major. Except, I had asked him how his salmon was, and that somehow led to her.”

Ezra chuckled as they began to cross the road.

“How about you? Aside from the school change. How’ve you… been?”

He knew what it was, that question. It was a very polite way of Oscar asking how he’d been since the thing with Anthony. 

Because he was there. Somehow in those first few days, when he was only really half aware of what was going on, he’d called Oscar. They’d run into each other Christmas last, and when Oscar had realized he wasn’t quite over Ezra, they parted ways with an understanding that they would try friendship again later on.

Later on, apparently was when Anthony left, and Ezra hadn’t known what to do about it or himself.

“It… helps and hinders being back here,” Ezra said, gesturing about. “Hinders only because I’m nearly always afraid of running into him, or his family. Because I’m not sure I could handle seeing him right now, not if he didn’t want to see me. And his family? I don’t know what he told them, or what they might say. His father would be pleased, I know that.”

“And the helps?” Oscar asked when Ezra didn’t speak after a moment. 

They stopped outside the cafe they were heading to, and Ezra took a deep breath of cool air to steady himself. 

“It helps because this town has more good memories than bad, even if they all have Anthony in them. Here… it doesn’t feel so awful to still love him. Here I can almost pretend that nothing else happened, that we simply went to different schools and grew apart like so many others do.”

Oscar put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. “You know I’m willing to listen whenever you need to talk, right?”

“Of course,” Ezra replied, putting his hand over Oscar’s. “And allow me to say, I’m so pleased we were able to be friends again. I don’t know what I would have done if it weren’t for you.”

“You would have had Gabriel,” Oscar replied with a smirk as he pulled his hand away. “And we both know how much Gabriel would _love_ to be there for you.” 

“Oh hush,” Ezra said as Oscar opened the door. “I’d really rather not think on it.”

~C~

**2010**

The beauty, AJ realized, of being given a flat last year, despite not really wanting one, was that he could avoid going back home during the holidays. 

He didn’t want to go back only to discover Ezra stayed in Oxford. Or worse, that he invited Gabriel home over the holidays. He didn’t want to run into Eliza and see her scorn, because he knew she would have some. He didn’t know how Ezra felt in the aftermath of everything, because being forgiven didn’t mean all was forgotten, and every time AJ thought about that night, he felt himself sink a little deeper into the pit of self-loathing.

Which is probably why he was laying in bed in the early hours of the new year with one of his friends, naked, sharing a joint post-sex. Not that the sex, joint, or friend was bad, but it wasn’t what AJ had wanted to do for new year’s eve. 

But Bea wasn’t so bad. He’d met them when he switched to horticulture, which was something James hadn’t known about, but since AJ wasn’t around “that fairy” boy anymore, he had some leeway to decide what he wanted to do after the last school year. 

Bea was either the good sort of bad people or the bad sort of good people. They showed so little emotion that AJ wasn’t sure they had any, not until the plant they’d been tending had a spot on its leaf, and Bea tore it a new one. It was bonding over their shared belief that the plant would respond better to threats that made them friends. Nothing more, though. AJ couldn’t say he was particularly attracted to Bea on a grand scale, and Bea had no interest in him beyond a quick shag now and again.

But, at a stretch, they were friends. And friends, it turned out, wasn’t something AJ had a lot of.

They touched his bicycle tattoo, a requisition made a few months ago.

“Why a bike?” They asked.

AJ turned his head to look at them. “Bicycle. Bi.”

“Bit inaccurate.” They smirked.

He shrugged. “Well, suppose it is these days. Have sworn off blokes and all.”

Bea arched a brow. “I’m not a girl.” They replied.

AJ smirked. “Not a bloke either, are you?” 

They chuckled at that, Bea handing AJ the joint. 

He took a hit, blowing out the smoke above their heads. “So, talked to James.” He said, “He’s pissed I won’t intern with him.”

“Not surprising,” Bea replied. “But then, he doesn’t know you aren’t taking business anymore.” 

“Don’t fucking need the rest of it. I don’t need a damn bachelors or anything. I talked to a guy at the bank, I just need to prove I have the knowledge and skills to run a business, provide a plan, et Cetra, and I can get a loan. Good credit and all, thank you, mummy.” 

“Your mum gave you a credit card?” Bea asked, taking the joint back.

“No, she backed me so I could get one.” AJ frowned. “James is the one that keeps trying to serve me shit on a silver platter. ‘Oh, you can have your education paid for, but where I can keep an eye on you, and as long as you don’t fuck boys. Oh, you can have your inheritance, just keep your dick out of another man.”

“Or don’t let one put theirs in you.” Bea pointed out, their hands smacking AJ’s chest in the process of gesturing to emphasize their point.

“Right?” AJ said, his head feeling pleasantly light. “Which is fine, because men are… stupid. And I want nothing to do with them again.”

Bea stared at him a moment. “Is this because of that Ezra guy you went on about one time?”

AJ went sad so quickly, his head spun. “He was beautiful. And smart, and wonderful. And I, like a fucking idiot, told him I didn’t need him. Because some other bloke got to him first. My best fucking friend and I said ‘I don’t need you’. Like, what the hell was I thinking?”

“That you don’t need him,” Bea replied. “Because you don’t. He’s just a guy. Best friend or not. And really, you said you snogged him and then he went off with someone else? Yeah, he was-”

“Don’t.” AJ shook his head. “Don’t say anything bad about him, alright? Man’s an angel. Bloody fucking angel.”

“You’re stoned,” Bea remarked dryly.

“So are you,” AJ retorted, gesturing for the joint. Instead of handing it over, Bea put it to his lips. He took a hit, and then they did as well, setting it aside in the ashtray. 

“Wanna go again?” Bea asked.

AJ shrugged. “Why not.”

~A~

“Sometimes I wonder if coming back here was been a mistake,” Ezra confessed to his mother as he helped her make dinner. 

“It’s only placement,” She reminded him, placing a hand briefly on his arm before resuming her task. 

He glanced at her and felt his heart twist. She still wasn’t old, he didn’t think she could ever be properly old in his mind. But Cynthia Fell looked her near-seventy years. Her hair was white, fine streaks of silver, and her hands and face had more lines than Ezra could ever recall. She had aged far more rapidly in the ten years since his father died, but somehow he hadn’t noticed until now. Now that he was with her every day again, he could see how some tasks were getting more difficult for her. Not that she was incapable, but she was slower than she had been. 

It made him realize that time with her would be limited. Another twenty or thirty years.

“In a couple months you can see if the secondary across town is hiring, and if they aren’t would covering a maternity leave in your old school be so terrible?”

“It wouldn’t be easy,” he replied. “All the ones who were there when I was remember me from back then. And more than that, they remember who my friend was. And they ask about him, and I….”

“You just say what I told you to say, that you lost touch after you left secondary. It happens.”

“But I can’t,” Ezra said to her, allowing his emotion out. All the hurt, frustration, anger, and heartache. He was always safe to do that with his mum. “I can’t because I… hate myself for admitting it, even a _year_ after it happened. But when I think about him, I still think of how much I love him. Because I do, terribly. Even if he broke my heart. Even… even though I said something I didn’t mean and ruined everything.”

“Ezra, honey, you didn’t.” Cynthia tried to assure.

“Oh, but I did.” Ezra smiled sadly. “I could have done so many things. Tried harder, gone to him to patch things up. But I didn’t, and now….”

“Now, you move on.” His mother said firmly. “Maybe you love him for the rest of your life, maybe you don’t. Maybe you meet someone and forget him, or maybe you meet him again later on and things click. Until then, find ways to be happy.” Cynthia smiled warmly. “Don’t sit around and wait for a man, love. I didn’t. I went out and lived my life, and the right man found me. Yours will find you, too.”

**2011**

~C~

There had been a flaw in Anthony’s plan, one he hadn’t foreseen.

“Why!?” He demanded of an impassive James, sat sprawled in the middle of the sofa in their new London townhouse as if it were a throne.

Erica sat fuming in a chair off to the side, her eyes glaring at James, and her mouth screwed uptight. 

James shrugged. “Think of the lifestyle you lead.” He replied calmly.

AJ looked between his mum and James, trying to get a hint. “What the hell does that mean?” He asked. “I did _everything_ you asked of me. Everything. I left a school I liked, and then I moved off campus like you wanted, and took the courses you wanted me to take. The only thing I didn’t do was continue on with a bachelors, and that was with your blessing. So forgive me, but what the actual _fuck_.”

“You have come home with tattoos. You’re seen in the company of less than reputable people-”

“Gay people, you mean,” Anthony interjected.

“You’re disrespectful!” James snapped, then smoothed his collared shirt and straightened up. “You left a perfectly stable program, for a perfectly stable job to go work with plants.”

“Horticulture would be more stable than playing with figures. How many of your colleagues have gone bankrupt over the years?” AJ countered.

“Only the stupid ones.” James retorted. “Which, if this is the way you want to go, you probably would have been one of them anyway.”

AJ huffed, scrubbing a hand down his face. “So, what am I supposed to do, then?”

“Do something worthy of it, and I’ll hand you your trust fund,” James replied. “In the meantime, maybe find honest work. Perhaps some hard labor will smarten you up. You were never one to get your hands dirty.”

AJ grit his teeth and nodded, giving a little sniff. “Alright.” He said, already having a few prospects in mind. “See what I can do.” 

Turning on his heel, AJ walked out of the living room and out to the foyer. He roughly sat down on the bench to pull on his boots, glancing up as Erica came in after him. He shook his head, got up, and left the townhouse.

Erica followed.

“Hey,” She started, trying to keep pace with him.

“Don’t,” AJ snapped, but without any real heat behind it. “Just… don’t.”

“Anthony,” Erica tried again, and Anthony stopped, turning to face her.

“You know, I realize it’s been a couple years, but I still… you know the whole reason Ezra said what he did to me was because he knew the conditions James put on … _everything._ He knew what would happen, and I snapped at him and got pissy because I thought he said what he did because of a date with Gabriel and the fact that I… you know, it doesn’t matter. But here I am, having lost my best friend, and still not getting what I was constantly promised for as long as I can remember. Happy bloody birthday me.” He pulled at his hair, the strands a lot longer than James probably would have liked. They were reaching past his shoulder now, and a small part of him wondered if maybe he’d have gotten a haircut, he wouldn’t have been denied what he was told was his.

Erica took his hands out of his hair and held on to them. “I’m sorry.” She said. “I know you were really hoping to get the business going. If you want, I can talk to Tony-”

“No,” AJ cut her off right away. “No, he… he already did enough for me, for this.” He grinned, chuckling dryly. “Said Chrissy got her car when she was seventeen, and he was about eight years overdue.”

Erica blinked. “He got you a car?”

“Well, a sport utility thing. Thought it would be handy for someone working with plants and whatnot. Which, I thought was funny, but now that it looks like I might just have to find work in a greenhouse or something somewhere.”

“I’ll keep an ear out for something,” Erica said with a sympathetic look.

“Yeah, sure. Okay, mum.” He rolled his eyes. “You let me know if all your doctor or nurse co-workers suddenly need someone to watch their plants.”

“Would that really be so bad?” She asked.

“Yes.” AJ retorted. “I would rather keep working as a bloody barista than work on the Garden of some pompous asshole.”

Erica snorted.

“What?” he asked.

“Did it occur to you, at all, that that could very well be what you would end up doing with a career in horticulture?”

“No,” he retorted glumly. “Because my plan had been to open my own nursery. I had a bloody business plan done up.”

“I know,” Erica assured. 

But AJ didn’t feel assured. He felt a lot of things, and none of them were good. He hugged his mum, told her he wasn’t sure he still wanted to do dinner that night, and walked back to his flat.

 _Buck up,_ a voice in his head that sounded strangely like a very specific blonde told him. _It’s not like you didn’t expect this on some level. And just think of the experience you could gain. After all, no one said you had to still work in London_.

The first place AJ thought of was Oxford, but what were the chances he’d still be there after two years? Probably slim, even if he did really pursue the academic route, he likely would have traveled somewhere else for it. Like Edinburgh. Or the states.

~A~

“Cancer,” Ezra repeated.

Had to. He couldn’t wrap his mind around what his mother was telling them. He looked to Eliza and found her also quite incredulous. She turned to him as well, and reflected back at him was the fear slowly sinking in. The understanding, the implications.

She was less than a year away from seventy. 

“We’re going to start treatments very soon.” She assured them. “It… it wasn’t caught as early as it might have been, but-”

“We told you.” Eliza half snapped. “Time, and time again we _told_ you to go to the doctor. You’ve been feeling like shit for months! Before Ez even moved out! We’ve been telling you-”

“Liza,” Ezra tried to soothe, but Eliza smacked his hands away.

“No! No!” She hollered at him. “No, you should’ve… you’re the one here, and you… and, you, mum, you…” 

Then she burst into sobs. Uncontrollable wailing sobs that Ezra wasn’t sure came strictly from the news. Frustration, too, was likely a big factor. They _had_ been telling her for quite some time to go for a check-up, that at her age she really shouldn’t be missing them. It was a fainting spell a couple of weeks ago sending Cynthia to the hospital that likely finally made her get a diagnosis. 

It might have been a little bit of guilt that had Eliza break. Shea went from university straight into the workforce, taking up a job in a paper in Tadfield where they needed a copy editor just as she was graduating. She never came back home as he had, and probably didn’t call as often as Ezra did, despite only living a short bus ride away.

He could also understand her yelling at him because he moved out into his own, small flat to be closer to the job he gained after his placement. Where he wouldn’t see people wearing the uniform he had once donned and didn’t need to hear about that boy with the funny eyes.

But, Ezra supposed, Eliza may have just experienced the same sort of holiday depression that followed many who lost that wonderful feeling of romance and wonder December brought as a child. She’d probably stuffed it down, and put a lid on it, only to have the terrible news break the carefully constructed facade of cheer that she thought she could finally loosen up on now that the worst had passed.

It was the day after Christmas, the tree still in the corner of the Fell family home’s living room. The damn thing sparkled and twinkled like they should hold on to that cheer from the day before despite the darkness now clouding over them. They had the days before to celebrate and make merry, and then his mother broke the news to them today. 

_Merry bloody Christmas._

**2012**

Ezra had gone with his mother to her first chemo treatment, but she hadn’t wanted him in the room. Just there to drive her home afterward. Which he would, despite how he really didn’t enjoy driving. But he couldn’t very well allow his elderly mother to drive herself if she was feeling ill, and Eliza returned to Tadfield just a short time after Christmas.

“We can have a weekend away,” Gabriel insisted over the phone as Ezra sat outside in the hospital cafeteria, sipping a tea and people watching until it was time to go back up and see his mum. “Maybe we can go to London?”

“I’m not sure that’s going to be a good idea,” Ezra replied with a sigh. “For one, mum might need me here.”

“She’s already telling you you need to get out of that town,” Gabriel replied quickly. “She doesn’t want you hanging about on her account.”

“Yes, I’m aware of that, thank you,” Ezra replied a touch sharply. He sighed. “But she doesn’t know how she’s truly going to feel afterward. And while I appreciate that there will be a home nurse around for when I can’t be, I really just want to be around when I can.”

Gabriel hummed in understanding.

“And, really, it helps when I’m there, I think, because then she gets to talk about the trip she wants us to take.”

“Us, as in…?” Gabriel asked instantly, and Ezra rolled his eyes because who did Gabriel _think_ he meant? 

“She, Eliza, and I,” Ezra replied, shaking his head. As he did, something - or rather someone - caught his eye. Ezra’s heart skipped a beat when he spotted a head of perfectly coiffed ginger hair in the exact shade of a particular man he once knew. He swallowed because it couldn’t possibly be him. He forced himself to continue speaking to Gabriel while keeping his eye on the man.

“She had been saving up for it for ages, but kept putting it off,” Ezra explained. “Now that there may be a….” He trailed off when the ginger turned his head, his features lean, sharp. “May… be….” Ezra slowly stood up as he _really_ took in the form. 

Tall, lithe, ginger, _that_ jaw line. Ezra’s heart was positively pounding, hope and fear and doubt all warred within him, the desire to run after him and shout fighting hard against the desire to stand still. He could hear Gabriel on the phone, voice growing farther away as Ezra’s arm slowly dropped to the side.

“Anthony,” Ezra’s mouth moved without his permission, and his voice formed the sound that made its way across the cafeteria, just loud enough to be heard.

And stop a doctor heading for the ginger’s table in his tracks. And the ginger, who had been standing up, looked around, too.

With his blue eyes. Blue eyes in Anthony’s face, except it wasn’t Anthony at all. He was far too young to be him, like looking at a ghost from the past that someone didn’t get quite right.

“Ezra!” Gabriel’s voice came loud, and he immediately snapped the phone back to his ear and turned around, marching out of the cafeteria. 

“Sorry, sorry,” Ezra said, his voice shaking. “I just… I just thought… he looked so much like him.”

“You alright, sunshine?”

“Yes.” Ezra choked out, barely able to keep himself from bursting into tears at the absolute crushing disappointment of it not being who he thought. Or hoped. “Yes, I’m fine. Sorry… what were we talking about?”

~C~

“This is exactly what I said I wouldn’t do,” AJ grumbled to himself as he carried his bag up to the large, white estate house with an American flag fluttering over the door. 

He ended up working two jobs since his twenty-fifth birthday just over a year ago, his original one a barista, and the second in a little nursery just outside of Soho in London. In the year, he interviewed for many other, more lucrative jobs, even going so far as to fall back on his business degree and try and get a foot in the door with a firm as a last resort.

He learned a lot of the experience, both of himself and of others. For one, he learned that many people will want him to look a certain way, change what he could, and AJ learned there was only so much of that he would take. He would not cut his hair, but he was willing to pull it back in a low ponytail or a braid. More extreme would be a bun, but there comes a certain point in which it’s too much weight in one spot on the back of his head. For another, people were assholes, but since he couldn’t take his literal eyes out because they were deemed too unprofessional, he learned the art of colored contacts for work. 

He also learned that blue made his eyes look green, green like hazel and that he really shouldn’t have wasted his money and had gone with brown from the get-go.

It was after figuring all this out that his old horticulture teacher got in touch with him and told him there was a job he might be interested in. It helped to be the favorite of his year when the older man told him about the American diplomat looking for a live-in Gardener to tend the estate. Preferably someone without a family as the house was small, and single since there was nothing around the estate, and the constant coming and going of a commuting spouse would be a hassle for the secret service.

AJ was told to park what felt like a mile away from the house but was actually more like a hundred meters. Staff parking, he had been told when handed his security badge.

He went up to the front door, eyeing the secret service guys standing stoically nearby as he rang the bell. Perfectly normal, men in black suits and sunglasses standing around looking all cool.

Maybe he should get sunglasses. Might mean working around outside without the damn contacts if they were dark enough.

The front door opened to an older gentleman looking like he was so beyond tired that he hadn’t been merely tired since the nineties. Somewhere in the house, a child was screaming, and a woman with a thick Scottish brogue was telling him to do something that nearly sounded like “put the knife down.”

“Can I help you?” The man asked.

“I’m Anthony Crowley, the new gardener.” He replied.

“I have it, Tom,” An American woman asked.

A petite woman with deep brown hair and lovely brown eyes appeared beside the butler, relieving him of standing by the door. She was in a dress, one AJ thought was a bit warm for this time of year, but maybe where she came from it was warmer.

“Sorry about… everything.” She said, waving behind her. “TJ’s a bit of a wild one.” She said with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

“TJ.” He said. “I tend to go by AJ.”

“Oh, well.” She said, fluttering her hands in a weirdly familiar way. “I’m Harriet. Thad’s away right now, but he usually is. He said you’d be by the week. Come on in, it’s easier cutting through the house than going around the back.” She said, stepping aside and letting AJ in.

For some reason when the large door closed behind him, AJ got the weirdest feeling that something had clicked into place for him, even if this job was nowhere near the dream he thought it would be.

 _It’s destiny,_ that voice that sounded like Ezra flashed across his mind. _This is where you’re meant to be._

~A~

“This is a terrible idea,” Ezra was saying to Eliza on the phone as he walked through the London evening to the bistro where he was meeting his blind date.

“Look, you haven’t been on a date in a year, and what’s more, you’ve never had more than a first date in four years. Just shut up and go, I’m certainly not going to talk you out of it. If you had really wanted someone to do that, you would have called Gabriel.”

“I suppose.” Ezra agreed reluctantly. “I’m just… not sure. I haven’t actually met the man.” 

“Sorta the idea behind a blind date, Ez.” She quipped back. 

He paused, seeing the bistro around the corner, a flutter of nerves coursing through him. 

“We both know he’s going to take one look at me and promptly turn around and leave. Unless he got here first, and then he’s going to take one look at me and find a way to excuse himself.”

“Don’t be hard on yourself.” Eliza replied, then after a beat asked, “You’re not wearing the coat, are you?”

Ezra was nearly offended. “It’s a tip-top condition antique!” He countered. “Quite stylish, even today.”

“Oh god,” Eliza grumbled. “He’s going to take one look at you and think you’re some sorta wacko professor. You’re doomed to be single for the rest of your life.”

“I didn’t have time to change between work and catching the train.” He grumbled. “Otherwise, maybe, I might have reconsidered the look.”

“You could have changed your whole look for the day.” Eliza reminded him.

“Yes, but that would have likely caused questions.” He sighed. “And let’s face it, Eliza. Even if I came in the best fitting suit available, I’m not… fit.” He hated that word. Hated all the implications around it. He could admit he had a handsome face in a distinguished sort of way, but everything else had gone a little softer and a bit rounder in the last few years. And he hadn’t exactly been much to look at beforehand. 

“If he doesn’t like you for you, he’s not worth your time, and we both know that. So, buck up! Hike up your sock garters, and march in there.”

“I’m not wearing sock garters,” Ezra grumbled as he started moving.

“Really? Because they would work very well with the rest of your ancient attire.”

“Goodnight, Eliza.” He said before hanging up, hearing her affectionate laugh before the phone flipped closed.

Straightening his jacket, and then his bow tie, Ezra continued onward.

He wondered how much his well-meaning coworker told this man about him. Did they say Ezra was a bit old fashioned? A bit soft? A bit too passionate about literature and food? Or were they leaving it all for a surprise?

Ezra walked in, lamenting internally that this place really was absolutely perfect for a first date. It was dimly lit enough to be romantic, but not so much that you couldn’t see. The tables were well-spaced, and the food smelled divine. The hum of light conversation floated around him, weaving its way through the string music.

“Ezra.” A man called, and he turned toward the voice.

A lovely looking man with longish dark hair and brilliant eyes waved him over, and he smiled in return, offering a little wave before he ventured over.

“Richard,” He greeted. “Pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise.” He replied. “I wish I could say I’d heard so much about you, but if I’m to be honest, all I heard about you was that you were gay, handsome, but a bit anachronistic.”

Ezra’s smile turned sheepish. “Well, if I’m to be honest as well, I only heard you were handsome and gay, and why don’t I just give you a chance because I seemed lonely.”

Richard laughed, gestured to the seat across from him, and took his own.

“So,” Richard began. “I suppose the easiest place to start would be, what do you do for fun?”

“Oh,” Ezra blushed. “Admittedly not much of what anyone would call fun. I tend to read.”

“I’m guessing classics?”

“Anything, or nearly so. Though I admit the classics are my favorite. At the moment I’m going through a bit of a Wilde phase.”

Richard chuckled as Ezra smirked, and then said, “I admit that, while I’m sure I _should_ be a fan of Wilde, to some degree, I’m actually terribly fond of the Bronte sisters.”

“Do you have a favorite?”

“Well,” Richard replied, and so it began.

The evening was lovely, really. They had a lot in common and chatted about it through the appetizers, main course, and then dessert. After one more pot of tea, when it was late enough that Ezra had really better think about getting the train back home, they left the bistro together, side by side.

“I had a lovely time,” Ezra said, wringing his hands.

“So did I,” Richard replied, sounding very surprised.

They walked a few more steps when Ezra reached out a hand and stopped him. “I feel, though, that because we had a wonderful evening, I should be very honest with you.”

“Alright.” Richard nodded, seeming unperturbed.

“I like you.” Ezra began. “But I find myself… lacking attraction to you. I do hope you’re not offended.”

“No,” Richard said, sounding relieved. “No, I… feel the same way.” He said with a light-hearted chuckle.”And I was really hoping… see I have this mate. And he’s wonderful and gorgeous, but I’m just not attracted to him, and he… is very attracted to me.”

“Oh, I do know what you mean. I also have a friend who is very much like that.” Ezra replied quickly. “I've known him for, oh, eight years now, and he… still asks me out on a date at least once a year.”

“Oh, really?” Richard asked sympathetically.

“Like clockwork. See there was… well, there were a couple instances where, about this time of year, I had a break up of sorts, and both times he was quite the eager beaver, trying to swoop in and… I don’t know.”

“Twice? It’s happened twice and he still hasn’t gotten the hint?”

“One can’t blame him for being dedicated, I suppose. I mean, the second break up of sorts… I was never actually with the man I ‘split’ from. We were just…. But the first? I had been with that man for four years.”

“Four years? What happened?”

“Oh, we just wanted different things. And, really, different peo- OH!” He said quite suddenly. “I know you probably don’t want to hear this, but I _do_ know someone you might want to meet. My ex, Oscar.”

“Your ex?” Richard replied.

“Yes,” Ezra said, placing an assuring hand on Richard’s arm. “We were friends prior to our romantic entanglement, and while it took some time we’ve become great friends again. We were very young when we got together, you see, and we learned a lot about ourselves since. Oh, I do think you two would get on quite well.”

Richard stared at Ezra a moment before sighing. “How about you, me, and this Oscar get together for some drinks sometime.” And then with a smirk, added, “you could meet my friend David.”

“The one who pines for you?” Ezra asked.

“One in the same.”

“Seems a bit unfair, I’m not introducing you to Gabriel.” Ezra countered with a grin.

“Bring him along, too. More the merrier. Perhaps, with luck, David and he will be the two to get on. Mind, that would leave you a bit of a fifth wheel.” 

“I can manage, my dear fellow.”

Richard laughed. “Alright, next week, that pub,” he said, pointing to the place across the street. “The four or five of us will meet up, and see how it goes.”

“Wonderful. You have my number still?”

“I do,” Richard nodded.

“Excellent. We’ll keep in touch then.” Ezra said, offering his hand for a shake. Richard accepted, and they parted ways.

The first thing Ezra wanted to do was tell Anthony about it.

What he did was open his messages to Oscar, and began to send him the invitation for the following week.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter (which may not come until the end of the week, sorry) will be back in 2019. It's a longer one.
> 
> Chapter title is taken from the Clay Aiken version of "Broken WIngs". There are speaking parts in it that are beautiful, and I had hoped it was taken from a poem, but my quick google search has said no (Some of it might be, I google one of my favorite bits). So, because it's so fitting for these two at this time in their lives, I put it below.  
> Until next time.
> 
> _  
> We're in this life together  
>  Even when one moves without the other  
> Different pages from the same story_
> 
> _This aching is familiar  
>  It's something I remember  
> We can't touch without feeling  
> Can't heal without healing_
> 
> _Only the young could fall so hard  
>  Can be so careless, and ignorance costs_
> 
> _So you've moved out of the way this time  
>  Making room for each other  
> One without the other  
> We are broken but we are moving still_
> 
> _We're in this life together  
>  Even when one moves without the other  
> We are broken but we are moving still  
> A thousand different ways _


	24. Promise Me You'll Always Be Happy by My Side

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fluffy, fluffy, fluff. And humor.

**2019**

It seemed strange to just be the two of them, but Ezra could sense that something had been bothering Adam the last few days. He thought, perhaps, it had something to do with school starting. It was only just over a week away, and he vaguely remembered Eliza mentioning Adam’s nerves about nursery. Warlock, of course, wouldn’t stop talking about how great he thought primary would be, so Ezra assumed whatever was bothering Adam might not be voiced in front of the youngest Crowley.

There was guilt over taking Adam to an ice cream shop without Warlock, but Anthony had assured Ezra that he’d do something just as special with Warlock, just the two of them, so he wouldn’t feel left out.

Adam looked at his ice cream, the color from the sprinkles beginning to blend in the white of the vanilla, a sure sign that he was somewhere in his own head.

“You’ve been awfully quiet at home lately.” Ezra tried to start the conversation. Adam said nothing. With a purse of his lips, Ezra nodded and attempted a different approach. “Doctor Crowley told me that Doctor Adams has a trampoline, and I believe he’ll set it up in the back garden. That might be fun.”

“Yeah,” Adam said, which was at least a start.

Ezra narrowed his eyes at the mop of curls he could see instead of his son’s face. “Are you nervous about staying with someone you don’t know?” He asked gently. Adam shook his head. Then he opened his mouth before pausing.

Ezra stayed very still and waited.

“Do you have to go away?” Adam asked in a small voice, and it felt like an immediate shot to the heart.

It hadn’t even occurred to him that _that_ was the issue, and he felt more than a little selfish and like a terrible parent for not having realized it sooner. He very nearly said no.

But Anthony had arranged everything already, and Ezra was more than willing to have a weekend just for them. It wouldn’t be long enough, they would leave tomorrow morning, spend the night and Saturday night in London, then return home late Sunday afternoon. Ezra had much to do in prep for the upcoming academic year and was usually incredibly busy in the days leading up to it. Anthony had told his staff he wouldn’t be in during the week to take over watching the boys so they didn’t have to find a minder at the last moment. The weekend away would be just the respite they would need. For Ezra, one after months of being with the boys all day every day, which was draining despite how much he loved them both. For Anthony, it was a pause before jumping into the chaos of it himself.

So, despite how much his heart ached to look at Adam’s little face all sad and pitiful when he finally looked up, Ezra steeled his resolve. He reached across the small table and took Adam’s hand. 

“Yes.” He said firmly. “Because Anthony and I, while we adore you both, and love you both dearly, we need some time just us. All couples do from time to time.”

“But mum went away with Gavin… and….” Adam protested, seeming to both lose his words and feel he’d said enough.

“Adam, what happened with your mum… it had nothing to do with what she was doing or why she was doing it. It was Ineffable.”

Adam’s face scrunched up. “What?”

Ezra chuckled. “It means unknowable. Which is what the accident was. There was no way anyone could have known that it would happen. It wasn’t because she went away, or because she was with Gavin or any other little thing. And just because Anthony and I are going to go away for the weekend doesn’t mean the same thing will happen to us.”

“But what if it does?” Adam asked. 

“Don’t think on it,” Ezra said firmly, his mind vaguely going to Lucas and the likely possibility that boarding schools would be Adam’s future. He shook his head, both to assure Adam and to clear the thoughts. “You’ll see, dear heart, that everything will be alright. We’ll call you two as soon as we get to London, and we’ll call as soon as we leave. And, of course, we will make sure Warlock’s nana knows we’re fine, so she can assure you.”

Adam frowned as he considered this, then nodded. “I suppose that would be alright.” He said almost sagely.

Ezra chuckled. “Good. Now, eat your ice cream before it melts. And then afterward we’ll see if there are any ducks to feed.”

~C~

“Will you go to the eye?” Warlock asked, half skipping as he held Crowley’s hand with one of his and a dripping 99 in the other. 

Crowley smirked at his son, shades on as he didn’t feel like wearing his contacts out. “Maybe.” He replied. 

“What about Big Ben?”

“Ezra’s not a tourist, Lock. He’s been to London.”

“Yeah, but what about St James Park? Will you take him there to feed the ducks? Will you go see the palace? I bet Ezra would like that.”

“I’m sure he might, but we aren’t….” Crowley huffed. “Lock, it’s not the sort of weekend like we took to Stonehenge. We’re not going ‘round to sightsee. Ezra’s been many times. Sometimes… sometimes grown-ups who are together just want to go away for a weekend together. To spend time with each other doing little things.”

Warlock frowned. “You’ve never done that before.” He pointed out, which made Crowley cringe to realize he’d been in enough relationships since Warlock began developing long term memory to point that out. “And Nana and Grandpa James doesn’t.”

“Yeah, well, they aren’t a good example,” Crowley said half to himself. He looked at the now essentially empty cone in Warlock’s hand (that he knew wasn’t going to get eaten) and gingerly took it out of his son’s hand. Clasping it with two fingers, he tossed the remains in a garbage can, pausing a moment beside it and letting go of Warlock’s hand to extract a napkin from his pocket to whip his fingers.

“Is it going to be romantic?” Warlock asked with a scrunched up face. “Will you two kiss each other a lot and hold hands?”

 _Among other things._ Crowley thought. Crowley _hoped_ , really, since the last time he planned a spontaneous weekend with Ezra, it had blown up in his face quite spectacularly. At least this time he knew where they stood with one another.

“Yes,” He replied, and Warlock made a disgusted face. “Oi, one day,” Crowley warned.

“Kissing looks gross.” Warlock grumbled.

“I kiss you,” Crowley said, ducking down and getting his son’s cheek. “See? Just did!”

“Yeah, that’s different, though.” 

Crowley chuckled, and took Warlock’s sticky hand and wiped it. “It is. And when you’re older, good chance you’ll not find it so gross. And if you still do, well, that’s alright, too.”

“I know.” Warlock said easily. “Dad, can we go feed the ducks?”

“Maybe, we’ll see.” He replied as he finished cleaning Warlock’s hand, tossing the napkin away. “But before that, I have a very important task for you to help me with.”

“What’s that?” Warlock asked, eyes wide.

“It’s my night to cook, so… what shall we have?”

~*~

The goodbyes were both very difficult and terribly easy.

Adam hugged them both a little tighter, and since Ezra explained why Adam had been so quiet lately, Crowley could understand.

“I will drive extra careful,” he’d promised the boy as he hugged him, keeping his voice low so it was just between them. “Papa and I will get there and back, safe as houses, alright?”

Adam had nodded, offering a smile before he and Warlock switched off for hugs and farewells, and then they were off.

Which, admittedly, was the easy part. Because as soon as they’d gotten in the Bentley together, just the two of them, Ezra sighed a happy, contented sigh and smiled.

“I do adore how you have left everything a surprise except the location.” He said as Crowley started the car.

“Well, didn’t want you expecting Paris or anything.”

“I would have been just as content if we left the boys with them for the weekend just to spend it locked in a bedroom with you,” Ezra admitted as they began their journey, heading for the motorway leading into London.

“Well, now you tell me,” Crowley smirked, glancing at Ezra quick enough to see the wicked grin. “But, _that_ wouldn’t be romantic.” He continued, eyes on the road. “It would be… fun, and enjoyable, but it wouldn’t woo you.”

“Woo me?” Ezra repeated, amused.

“Yes, woo! Been wanting to woo you for damn near twenty years. Finally got my shot with you, and I’m not doing a lot of wooing. What if some other bloke comes along and sweeps you off your feet? Hell, what if _Gabriel-_ ”

“Hush,” Ezra said. “I don’t want that thought leaving your lips. No one else will sweep me off my feet, Anthony. They’re quite firmly placed on the ground.”

“And that’s a problem. Because they need to not be. Because I… made them… not. Anyway, point is, wooing. I will woo you.”

“Darling, you already have in all the ways that matter,” Ezra replied, sounding a touch aggravated. “We’re practically living together, we’re essentially raising two boys together. You still remain my best friend after all these years….”

“But I haven’t-”

“If you say ‘woo’ one more time-”

“Romanced you.” Crowley corrected, smirking. “Angel, I’ve been in love with you for an age, and I just… really need to make up for lost time over the weekend.”

“There isn’t any need to, Anthony.” Ezra retorted. “Really, truly.”

“So, that mean you _don’t_ want to picnic in St James Park? Dine at the Ritz?” Crowley asked, waiting a moment before glancing over and witnessing a slightly petulant pout on Ezra’s face as he pretended to not be affected by the mere idea. 

“Well, I wouldn’t say no.” Ezra finally admitted.

“You could be more excited.”

“I am excited, I just… don’t want to give you the satisfaction at the moment.”

Crowley smiled wide, glancing at Ezra again. “Can I get a wahoo, at least?” he asked teasingly.

Ezra turned, and the fleeting glimpses Crowley could take gave him enough of the exasperated scowl to know he’d both egged Ezra on just enough, but also knew he’d amused him a little as well.

“Just, drive the care, please.” Ezra huffed as he looked out the window.

“Yes, dear.” Crowley retorted, barely able to keep the chuckle in.

Was totally worth getting smacked on the chest for.

~A~

“We’re safely in our hotel room,” Ezra told Adam over his mobile, eyes still wide and taking it all in. 

They weren’t just dining at the Ritz, they were _staying_ at the bloody place. Which was… beyond insane. He could almost hear Marjorie telling him to bag Anthony as soon as possible. Jokingly of course. Mostly.

“And you aren’t driving around the city?” Adam asked.

“It might be safer if we do.” Ezra teased. 

He heard a scramble in the background, some slight bickering, and then a huff. 

“Ezra,” Warlock said, “when are you two coming back?”

“Not until Sunday night, dear, why?”

“Well,” There was a pause. “Tony isn’t a very good cook.” He said in a half-whisper. “He can’t make pancakes like you do.”

“I’m sure it will be fine, Lock.” He said and then noticed Anthony perk up from where he was unpacking the suitcases. 

It was a shame that the first thing he did after they got in the room was duck into the (exquisite) ensuite to pop in his brown contacts. Ezra could understand why, though. Anthony had gotten some skeptical looks from the concierge upon check-in while wearing his shades. Ezra had a feeling Anthony lowered said shades to see better in search for his credit card only as a pretense. Whether he saw the man at the desk startled at his eyes or not, Anthony didn’t let on. He did pop his shades up on his nose after that, and he was treated with far more politeness. Maybe a bit too much. 

And how could Anthony enjoy the splendor of everything if he had to see it all through tinted lenses? And at least his fake brown eyes were lovely, though maybe not as lovely as his natural ones.

He then beckoned for the mobile. “Hold on, love, Dad wants to talk to you,” Ezra said as he headed over to Anthony and handed him the phone. Then, to give him some privacy and because he could, Ezra went over to the large window and looked out over Piccadilly. 

The whole thing felt very much like them, in combination. Their room, in the beautiful, historic building, furnished with antiques, appearing British in every sense of the word. Outside and around them were modern stone and concrete, shops for the sleek and stylish, Green Park being just around the corner. Perhaps not as lush or verdant as the plants Anthony could grow, but still lovely. Them, sort of. Maybe at a stretch, but it still felt like it to Ezra.

He touched the cool glass as his eyes caught on a red double-decker and followed it until it was out of view. He didn’t think he could live here these days, though it had been a bit of a dream in the past. But he did love to visit, to get a taste of the hustle and bustle without needing to be around it all the time.

What would they do first? What had Anthony planned?

“I promise, Adam.” He heard Anthony say, and turned toward him with a frown. Anthony shook his head and waved him off. “Nothing like that, I promise. I’m not… no. What did he say? Adam. Adam! Get Lo- Adam!” He pulled the mobile away from his ear and looked at it offended. “That little devil hung up!”

“Are they up to no good already?” Ezra asked with affection. 

Anthony blushed. “They’re being little demons is what they are.”

“Oh?” Ezra asked as he moved to take back his mobile. “Shall I call back and ask?”

“NO!” Anthony said immediately. “Got some ideas, those two.”

“Well, they’re five, it can’t be too terrible.” Ezra rolled his eyes. “Better than if you’d been talking to, say, Anathema. Or heaven forbid, Marjorie.”

Anthony snorted. “Probably coulda handled those two.” He then looked around them, at the mostly empty bags, at the sort of filled drawers. “Right.” He checked his watch. “We have some time before lunch. Anything you wanted to do?”

Ezra smirked. “I can think of one thing. A… gesture of appreciation for this wonderful surprise.”

“Oh-oh, that… that sounds… fun.” Anthony swallowed. “But it’s going to have to wait.”

Ezra’s brows shot to his hairline. “Why?” He asked.

“Because we have a reservation downstairs, and I would hate for you to miss it.” He replied, throwing a thumb over his shoulder toward their hotel room door.

Ezra stepped closer, hooking one finger into Anthony’s trousers. “You’ll be quick.” He promised.

~C~

He ate lunch entirely too fast and was forced to watch Ezra eat at his usual pace, savoring every bite, all while quietly freaking out.

This was just a weekend away. Just a couple getting away from their lives and their kids for a couple of days to just be them. And Crowley had it planned out well, to ensure they would have all the romance he should have been giving Ezra since they officially got together. After this, there would be a lull in which he hoped they could go for a walk, go see some Art while walking hand in hand. Then there would be dinner, Ezra’s choice, probably something quaint since they had lunch here. And after, the theater, because how could he take this beautiful, arts-loving man to London and not take him to a show?

He ignored how that was a lot of what Gabriel had done with Ezra over the last decade. He probably didn’t get to hold Ezra’s hand while doing it all, though. Or receive the very wonderful thank you, Ezra, bestowed on Crowley before they had to come downstairs, except maybe that one time. But it’s unlikely that Ezra enjoyed it quite as much as he had upstairs.

They _had_ made it downstairs with plenty of time to spare, so the smug bastard could look around the lobby and bask in it. Crowley should have hated that Ezra had been right about his being quick, but really, he had nothing to complain about, did he?

Except, maybe, the little hell spawns they left behind and the idea that this was all a big lead up for….

He couldn’t even think it without hyperventilating a little bit, so he didn’t.

Wouldn’t.

So he didn’t.

Instead, he leaned on the table and rested his chin in his hand as he watched Ezra close his eyes and quietly moan in appreciation for the little dessert thing he had after their delicious (it was, really, even though Crowley didn’t properly enjoy it) meal.

“That was scrumptious,” Ezra said after he swallowed, then dotted his mouth with his napkin. “What’s next?”

“Art!” Crowley spat out and regretting it. “We’re… yeah. Just, up and….”

“Are you alright, darling?” Ezra asked as he frowned. “You’re usually not still lost for words this long afterward.”

Crowley’s jaw dropped as he glanced around. Not that Ezra had blurted out what he meant, or that anyone would think it was about anything but the meal should they have been eavesdropping. But that he was so … and Ezra was smirking, knowing full well what he just did.

“You… I still can’t believe I didn’t see this much of this side of you back then.” He sputtered out.

“To be perfectly honest, I don’t think I was quite this… teasing back then. Especially like this. I can certainly say I wasn’t this way with my past partners.”

“Good, more for me.” Crowley smiled. 

The waiter came by, and once they’d paid, they got up and left the restaurant hand in hand.

~A~

They were just leaving the Academy of Art when Ezra’s phone rang.

“Probably the boys,” He said with a quick grin to Anthony. 

As Ezra reached into his pocket for the device, Anthony let go of his hand and snaked his arm around Ezra’s waist, pressing his nose behind his ear, partly in the blonde curls.

It was lovely, and as Ezra answered the phone he closed his eyes, basking in the feeling of being loved so tenderly and completely.

“Hello?” He said happily, the smile on his face positively radiating in his voice.

“Hey, sunshine!” 

Ezra’s smile fell.

“Gabriel.” He said with strained politeness, and Anthony instantly pulled back as if he’d been burned.

Ezra quickly looked toward him, watching Anthony go through so many reactions. Anger, hurt, annoyance, curiosity, back to hurt, annoyance, anger.

A bit perturbed that Anthony would back away because of Gabriel, Ezra reached out and grabbed Anthony’s waist, hauling him right back to where he was while Gabriel talked.

“I remembered you saying you’d be in London. Thought maybe we could meet up, where are you?”

Ezra had to wonder if Gabriel honestly thought he would just tell him where they were so they could join them on what the man had to have known was meant to be a romantic getaway.

“With Anthony,” he said, to which Anthony frowned at him, mouthing something that Ezra couldn’t catch.

“Right,” Gabriel said. “But he’s there for work, right? You could just….”

“He’s not, but perhaps you could join us.” Ezra perked up suddenly, watching Anthony wrinkle his face in disgust and hurt. “Yes, see… we were on our way to the eye. I hadn’t actually been before, so I thought now would be a good opportunity to check it out.”

Anthony grew more confused.

“Great!” Gabriel enthused. “Where will we…?”

“Just find us on the pier,” he replied smoothly. “Until then.” He hung up, then kissed the confused downturn of Anthony’s lips. “Now, my dear, what had you planned next? I’m quite excited to find out.”

Anthony simply stared.

“Darling?”

“Did you just send Gabriel to the other side of the Thames?” He asked, pointed at Ezra’s phone.

“Of course I did,” Ezra replied with a frown. “I don’t want him about. Quite frankly, I think when we get back I’m going to need to have a talk with him. He’s starting to get a bit ridiculous.”

“Only starting?” Anthony grinned, taking Ezra’s hand off his waist and clasping it in his own. “And as for what’s next, that would be dinner. Wherever it is you want to go. But, apparently, on _this_ side of the Thames. Mind, that’s awfully convenient since I have tickets for _Mousetrap_ tonight.” 

Ezra nearly burst with how excited, pleased, and in love with this man he was all at once. He gave Anthony a quick kiss once more.

“You know, this might come as a bit of a shock, but I quite fancy you, Anthony Crowley.” He said, full of the affection he really meant. Anthony gave a pleased grin, and if he had a tie to straighten with his chin tilt, he would have done so. 

“Fancy you, as well, Ezra Fell.” He said, turning them away from the art center. “So, any idea where you would wanna go?”

“I do know of a fantastic little spot around the corner from there…”

~*~

It hadn’t been a dream.

Ezra had gone to sleep last night swearing when he woke up, he would be back in either his or Anthony’s bed, and the whole thing would have been the most wonderful dream. The whole day was just too perfect, and Gabriel’s call in the afternoon made him think that, of course, his mind would have made that up, wouldn’t it? Just to put a ripple in perfection.

But it didn’t. It wasn’t a dream. He was in a soft bed, with luxurious bedding and the love of his life was curled up against him, nothing separating their skin as the boys were back in Tadfield and clothing was optional.

He didn’t want to leave the bed, not really, but the thought of the boys suddenly had him missing them terribly. He and Anthony did call the night before to say their “good nights” and “I love yous”, but it had been a brief thing between dinner and the theater before the boys were tucked in.

Glancing at the clock, he could see it was nearing eight in the morning. They would be up, he was sure. So, very carefully, Ezra extracted himself from Anthony’s grasp, placed a kiss on his temple (admired the smile in sleep that got him), then grabbed one of the two robes tossed on the end of the bed. 

One does not sit on a chair at the Ritz in the nude, no matter what one does in the bed. Standards and all.

Robe secured, Ezra picked up his phone and called the number Tony plugged in before they left so he could call if needed, then sat down in one of the two chairs at the table by the window while it rang.

“Good morning.” Tony’s voice answered cheerfully, and the boys were heard clearly in the background.

“Good morning, Doctor Adams,” Ezra said as quietly as he could. “How did they do last night?”

“They were fine,” Tony replied. “Went to bed alright, didn’t give any trouble.”

“Is that dad?” Ezra heard Warlock ask in the background, and it was suddenly quiet.

“It’s papa,” Tony replied, and before Ezra could say anything he could hear both boys scrambling to talk to him. “Wait, wait,” Tony admonished, firm but gentle. “Alright, now papa’s on speaker so you can _both_ talk to him.

“Morning papa,” Was mixed with, “morning Ezra,” and Ezra’s heart warmed.

“Good morning, darlings. Dad and I miss you.”

“Where is he?” Adam asked this time.

“Sleeping,” Ezra replied, glancing at his beloved still in bed.

“Figures,” Warlock said, and in the background, Erica’s laugh came through.

It did give Ezra paused, wondering how she was getting away with staying there overnight. Maybe, if he recalled it later, he could ask Anthony about it.

“Remember to be good today, alright? And perhaps we’ll bring you back something small from the trip, alright?”

“Papa,” Adam started, “Can Tony bring us to the funfair? There’s a funfair here, and he said that he already knew Anthony would be okay with Warlock going, but he didn’t know about you, so since you called, can we go?”

“I don’t see why not,” Ezra replied. “But!” He cut off any excited cheering with the firmness of the word. “You both should eat your breakfast well, and no more than one treat each, understood?”

“Yeah,” they both said.

“Good. I will have dad call you later, okay? Have fun, and I love you.”

He was genuinely surprised by the course of “love you” back before the byes took over and they were gone.

He sat stunned for a bit, watching the early morning traffic below, thinking about that. 

Wondering.

~C~

“What was that?” Warlock asked over the phone.

“It was a duck,” Crowley replied, eyeing the bird that seemed intent on trying to get one of their sandwiches from them. Ezra merely giggled where he sat against a tree, finishing his sandwich as he watched the would-be thief waddle away to a more willing human.

Which was good, because Crowley was laying on his side, stretched out over the cheap blanket he grabbed from home, and couldn’t have defended his lunch with his weight on one arm (the one with the hand holding the sandwich), the free arm holding the phone.

A precarious situation, that.

“So you’re in the park? Did you show him where we lived?” Warlock asked,

“Papa wouldn’t want to see that, he would want to see museums and stuff,” Adam replied. “Dad, can we go now? There’s bumper cars.”

“Oh, well, if there are bumper cars,” Crowley said casually while glancing at Ezra and hoping the panic wasn’t clear on his face.

Adam had called him dad a total of three times, now. The first, he was pretty sure was an accident. He didn’t even remember what it was over, but it was before “papa” came into play, and it had panicked Crowley immensely. The second time had been the week before when Ezra was on a call with one of his co-workers, and Adam had needed something. He could have said Anthony, and of course, Crowley would have replied, he always did. But he used Dad, and Crowley found it was far less scary the second time. Mind, he still stood in the kitchen staring at the wall wondering what it all meant.

He was still petrified that Ezra would be upset.

Yes, people joked since the boys’ birthday that they were just dad and papa in general. Yes, Tony and Erica referred to them that way while dropping them off. No, Ezra hadn’t looked terrified then, so it was only Crowley’s fear at play here.

Fear, he supposed, that he’d fallen in love with Adam like he had his own son, and at any moment the second boy calling him dad could be taken away from him by one wrong choice.

“You two have fun. Be good for Tony, not a toe out of line.” He warned them, and the boys rang off with sentiment and excitement.

“Did you ever figure out if ducks have ears?” Ezra smirked, and Crowley rolled his eyes.

“Shut up,” He said with a grin, Ezra chuckling just a bit more.

“You know, I could never see a duck with anyone else without telling that story,” Ezra confessed. 

“I still have the stuffed duck somewhere,” Crowley admitted, though he knew full well it was in a box under his bed with Warlock’s baby bracelet and his blanket, and his own hospital bracelet from the surgery he had for Terry.

“I had wondered if there was a reason Warlock had a stuffed duck. Wanted yours, did he?”

“He did, yeah.” Crowley nodded. “Luckily he was just young enough to think it was the same one when I bought it. Didn’t want him destroying mine. Too precious.”

Ezra hummed, perhaps in agreement or merely understanding, as he finished his sandwich.

“So,” he started once he was finished chewing. “You promised me dining at the Ritz, and a picnic in St James park, and we have done both of those and more. What could you possibly have left up your sleeve to woo me with?”

“I thought ‘woo’ wasn’t allowed?” Crowley asked with a smirk.

“Only by you.”

“Oh, well then.” Crowley sat up and scooted back to sit right next to Ezra. “There’s this old book shop in Soho I thought you might want to have a look at. Always thought of you when I would pass it on a delivery.”

“Oh!” Ezra perked up, looking around. “Is your shop terribly far? I know you said you _lived_ in Mayfair, but did you have your shop here, too?”

Crowley smirked. “Just on this side of Soho, actually. Why? Wanna see it?”

“Oh, I do, very much,” Ezra said, brushing his hands together. “I’ve seen your Tadfield spot plenty with Eliza, but I would love to see the original, if I may.”

Crowley considered it, a part of him a little sad that doing so might mean he may not get a chance to show Ezra that beautiful, antique shop. But, how could he deny such a simple request?

“When you’re ready. Bit of a walk, though.”

“Probably for the best,” Ezra said as he used the tree behind him as leverage to get up. “After the room service breakfast, not to mention lunch and tea yesterday, I could probably use the walk. Lest I become any more… soft.”

“I like the soft,” Crowley smirked as he got up. He then looped his arm around Ezra’s waist and brought him close. “Makes you nearly impossible not to snuggle up with.”

“Yes. However, I do recall the type of men you were fond of in the past, darling.”

“Nothing on you, angel,” Crowley promised, kissing Ezra quick on the lips. “Place holders, all they were. Someone I could have when I thought I couldn’t have the one I wanted.”

“I’d have been yours,” Ezra assured in that tender, loving way of his. “You just had to ask.”

“Didn’t, actually.” Crowley teased. “Just had to snog you on a sofa.”

“Quite.” Ezra agreed. “Now, shall we tidy up? Much as I enjoy the conversation, I do want to see where you started roots, so to speak.”

Nerves suddenly struck Crowley, but he took a deep breath and nodded. “Right. Let’s, ah, let’s do that.”

~*~

The Garden in Tadfield was expansive. It looked from the front like a typical storefront, with large windows and a white brick exterior. The sign hinted at the wonders within but most expected an average garden shop at first glance. It was inside that kept them coming back, the near jungle-like feel of how everything was arranged. The interior trees, like the dwarf fruit trees, the money tress, etc, all had little cards for people to take the cashiers for purchase. No one was ever disappointed with the one selected for them, as it was always as beautiful and verdant as the ones on display. People could wander the floor, see smaller plants they could pick as they liked (the shelves always seemed fully stocked, like some sort of miracle), maybe venture into the cooler room off the main where anyone looking for floral arrangements could find them or request them. When they went further back, they would discover the doors that led to the outdoor things in an impossibly large space.

The Garden in London lacked that beautiful backspace, it lacked the sleek offset cooler room, but it still had the effect of walking into a beautiful oasis. It didn’t have the brick exterior, but a sleek, all glass and steel front which had to have accordion gates pulled down over them each night to prevent most damage and break-ins.

“Oh,” Ezra had said as he walked in, Crowley watching him a moment. “It’s… it feels very much the same and yet very different.”

“What the hell are you doing here?” Bea asked, but at least did it with what someone might call a friendly tone, so it wouldn’t put the customers off too much.

“Ezra wanted to see the place.”

“Oh,” Bea directed their attention to Ezra. “So, you’re the angel.”

“Suppose I am,” Ezra nodded, nonplussed. “Ezra Fell.”

“Bea Zell.” They replied, taking Ezra’s offered hand in a shake.

“Interesting name.” He commented as politely as one could with that.

“Thanks, I chose it,” Bea replied.

“Really?” Ezra perked up. “Did it have any significance, or did you simply like it?”

Bea smirked, “My mother said she wouldn’t let me change it to Beelzebub, that was as close as I could get. She was paying for it, so I played along.”

“She paid? How very supportive.” Ezra grinned. “Crowley’s told me you two go back quite a way. You met while taking horticulture, correct?”

Bea blinked. “Did he tell you everything about our past?” They asked.

Ezra blushed ever so slightly. “Yes, my dear, he did.”

“Not going to try and start, I dunno, marking territory or anything?”

“Why ever would I do that?” Ezra asked, face curled in distaste.

Bea blinked and turned to Crowley. “You fuck it up with this one, and I’m burning this place to the ground. He’s good, keep him.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Crowley said, gesturing toward the counter where a couple was slowly beginning to drift.

“Whatever did they mean by that?” Ezra asked once they were alone again.

“I’ve had partners in the past who, upon meeting Bea, get a bit defensive. Because Bea and me were never a couple, it was always just… whatever it was until it wasn’t.”

“That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.” Ezra tutted. “That would be like you being defensive around Gabriel for the same reasons.”

“Uh, yeah, difference there, angel,” Crowley said as he followed the now wandering Ezra. “Gabriel actually wants something more from you.”

“I suppose you’re right, there, darling. He had texted, by the way. And called, as well, but only once while we were in the show so my mobile was on silent. He seemed to be under the impression that he missed us.”

“You.” Crowley corrected, starting to smile.

“Yes. He did go back to Tadfield, at least. Wanted me to give him a ring should I want to do something this evening.”

Crowley scoffed, wandering toward the floral arrangement counter to see what would be coming up.

“Doesn’t give up, does he?” He mumbled, flipping through the orders. Nothing pressing, or that required him. He went through the past orders for the week, sneering when he saw James Crowley on two slips for two separate women, neither being for Erica.

“Darling?” Ezra asked. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah,” Crowley said, dropping the pages he’d gone through back on the top of the pad, then looked to Ezra. “As you can see, nothing terribly special here. Shall we go look through that bookshop now?”

Ezra pondered for barely a second. “Oh, alright.” He replied like it was some great hardship and not something that sparked excitement. “Was lovely to meet you, Bea.” He called, and Crowley could see the tiniest bit of confusion on Bea’s face before he and Ezra left the shop. No one said it was lovely to meet them to Bea, and Crowley could just imagine them wondering where they went wrong for the rest of the day.

~A~

They had spent the day wandering Soho and Mayfair and returned for dinner at the hotel. Anthony had offered another outing, a second show, or anything else Ezra wanted. They wandered the streets a little longer instead because all Ezra had wanted was just to be with him, to have his hand in Anthony’s, and just be in the world as them. 

When they returned to the hotel, they stripped off their jackets and shoes, their ties from dinner, and Ezra removed his waistcoat to be as comfortable as possible. They had ordered a bottle of champagne and had it brought to the room, Anthony surprising him once more with some room service nibbles.

“This weekend has been positively delightful,” Ezra told Anthony as they sat at the table by the window he had that morning to talk to the boys.

Anthony hummed in agreement, meeting Ezra’s gaze with his now contact lens free eyes. “It has been. Almost a shame we go back to reality tomorrow.”

“Almost,” Ezra agreed. “I do miss the boys.”

“Yeah,” Anthony said, glancing out the window. He took a sip of his champagne. “Warlock’s going to miss having you two around every day, I think, when things go back to… before. Next week.”

Ezra’s heart sank. “Oh.” He said, looking at the golden liquid fizzing in his flute. “I hadn’t realized… I suppose I thought things would carry on the way they had.” He looked out the window, went to take a sip of the champagne, and then realized he’d lost his desire for it. He set it down on the table, instead, turning the flute in his fingers.

“It doesn’t have to,” Anthony said barely louder than a whisper. Ezra stilled but didn’t look at him yet. “If-if you want, I mean. We could… keep going the way it was. Works, right? Maybe… I dunno, but… yeah. If you want, we can … keep going.”

Ezra looked at him then, and his sinking heart was suddenly soaring, floating, filled with affection. 

Anthony looked terrified like it took every ounce of his courage to just get that little bit out. Just to ask, in such a roundabout way, if Ezra would like to continue sharing a space or two with him.

“We could keep going,” Ezra said assuredly, glad to see Anthony smile before trying to hide it with a drink of champagne. “Anthony,” he started, the words he wanted to say halting on the tip of his tongue.

He wanted to say that Anthony had to know how much he loved him. How much he didn’t want to spend any more time apart from him. He thought it should be spoken aloud that he wanted to live with him and wake up with him every day. That he wanted more weekends away, either as just them or with the boys as well.

Instead, he said, “Marry me.”

Anthony didn’t react, not for what was probably close to a minute. Long enough that Ezra had wondered if he’d really let _that_ slip out.

Eventually, though, Anthony choked out a, “sorry?” 

_Well, in for a penny._

“I asked if you would marry me.”

Anthony turned to him with wide eyes, his mouth agape. “Marry you?” he repeated, a touch too incredulous.

“Oh,” Ezra said, his heart starting to sink again. “You don’t want that, do you?” He said with an awkward grin. “I suppose I am getting ahead of myself. We’ve only been together for a few months. There have already been enough life-changing things happening to us this year, I suppose marriage…. But, well, you are my best friend. And, I believe, you always have been. Even in those years, we weren’t talking, because I had wanted to tell you so many things in that time. You never left my mind or my heart. And I don’t know what I said or what I did to cause you to leave-”

“Nothing,” Anthony interrupted, showing more passion and emotion than he had since they sat down at the table. “You did _nothing._ It was _me_ , I … believed Gabriel when he said you two were dating, and I didn’t like what you were saying outside, and it was just all me, I swear, angel-”

“Be that as it may,” Ezra interrupted. “I have blame in there as well. Perhaps I could have followed you, despite what we said. Or I could have been more persistent in calling. I could have done many other things, but that’s not the point. The point is that I lost you, and wasted so much time not being with you when that’s all I ever wanted.”

“Me too,” Anthony said with soulful eyes. “Every day of my damn life.”

Ezra gave a little grin. “I can’t wish our time apart away, though,” he confessed. “It gave you Warlock, and I could never wish that sweet, wonderful, lovely boy away for anything, even for more time with you. But, darling, I can’t let you go now. And if all you want is to move in together, then I will do so gladly. I know the boys will welcome it. But in the spirit of honesty, I don’t want that to be all. So, I will ask again, properly this time, without any expectations: Anthony Crowley, will you marry me?”

A very weird, odd, implacable sound came from Anthony before what might have been a laugh. Then there was definitely a giggle. 

“You’re serious?” He asked with a wide grin.

Ezra huffed. “Yes!” He said firmly. “Would you like me down on one knee? Would that help?”

“Yes. I mean no. I mean… yes to the question, no to the whole… knee… thing. Yes, yes I will bloody marry you.” Anthony said, getting up from the table so quickly he bumped it. 

Ezra had been holding his flute in an increasingly tight grip, so his didn’t move, but Anthony’s wobbled.

“Shit,” Anthony cursed, quickly plucking the towel from the ice bucket, wrapped around the bottle, and wiped up the spilled liquid. The flute didn’t topple over, at least.

Now that the spill was cleaned, Anthony went around the table, and kissed a baffled and amused Ezra square on the lips. 

Ezra giggled, letting go of his flute to cup Anthony’s face in both his hands. They traded quick, happy kisses for a moment before Anthony returned to his seat and plucked up his flute again. “We’re really doing this?” He asked, smiling wide. “We’re really… if people ask?”

“You’re my betrothed.” Ezra agreed. “My future husband.”

“Holy shit,” Anthony said, his smile never wavering. “I get to be Ezra Fell’s husband. _I’m_ the lucky bastard.”

Ezra laughed, picking up his flute and lifting it toward Anthony. “Indeed you are, my dear. And shall we toast to that?”

Anthony smirked, “Cheers,” he paused, “To us.”

“To us,” Ezra repeated, and their flutes made a satisfying clink.

“Do we get rings?” Anthony asked as he lifted his flute to his lips.

“Do you want one?” Ezra asked after a sip. “Aside from the wedding band?”

“Nah, you?”

“No,” Ezra shook his head. Then he grinned, “where do you want to honeymoon?”

“Family or just us?” Anthony countered. “Or maybe we can do a weekend away just us after the wedding, and then maybe take the boys away for a family one?”

“That would be lovely,” Ezra said, reaching a hand across the table, patting Anthony's hand once before the ginger turned his palm, and curled his fingers around Ezra’s. “Maybe it could be in the summer, what do you think?”

And so it went back and forth for a couple of hours, discussing things that were both real and very dream-like, as though it was all hypothetical instead of a possible reality.

They made sure to call the boys and tell them that there was some exciting news to share when they got back in the morning. 

After that, they finished the bottle of champagne in bed, celebrating their future, happy and light, bubbly like liquor, and showing one another just how deeply and truly they were loved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just an FYI, there's still more story coming. Like, a lot more for the 2019 bits. I don't know when it will end. Well, I do, but I don't know how long until we get there. Just saying. This feels like it could be an end, it's not.  
> Next 2 chapters take place in the past.  
> Until then.
> 
> Chapter title from "Marry Me" by Train


	25. Maybe I Don't Wanna Be Lonely

**2012**

It took more than a week for Ezra and Richard to be able to coordinate a meeting with their friends of mutual preference to gather together in London at the pub they agreed on. It was Oscar who was most reluctant, and it felt like a small victory when he finally agreed.

“Even if you don’t like him in the way I think you will,” Ezra was saying as he and Oscar approached the doors to the pub, “you will at least enjoy his company. And really, my dear, are you so opposed to having possibly another friend?”

Oscar sighed, “I’m here,” he reminded Ezra. “I’m doing my part, alright? So, let’s go meet these guys.”

Ezra nodded, and opened the door for him, waving him inside.

Once within, he scanned the crowd and found Richard almost right away. 

“He’s right there,” Ezra pointed out, looking up at Oscar.

Oscar nodded, hands in his pockets as he glanced around. “Lead on.” He said, and Ezra huffed, heading toward the table. 

Upon getting closer, he could better see the man who Richard brought with him. 

David, at first glance, seemed rather plain. A medium brown hair, brown eyes, thin like…. No, he would _not_ think of Anthony tonight. This was about David. David, who had full facial hair, well-trimmed, short, but thick looking. He might have looked rugged if he wasn’t much bigger than a twig, figuratively speaking. Instead, he was almost drab in his black jumper and plain denims.

Then he laughed at something Richard said, and in an instant, David became rather lovely.

Ezra went up to the table, and while there was apprehension in David’s face, there was warmth and friendliness in Richard’s as he turned to Ezra.

He was about to say hello when Oscar beat Ezra to it.

“Hi,” Oscar said to Richard, holding out his hand. “I’m Oscar.”

Richard stared at Oscar for a moment, then glanced at Ezra. “Hi,” Richard said to Oscar, blinking. “Um….”

“Richard,” David answered for his friend, grinning. “And he’s pleased to meet you.”

“Yes,” Richard said, taking Oscar’s hand slowly. “Rather am, I think. Ezra failed to say… anything about your first impression.”

“Rather good, then,” Oscar smirked. “Shall I go top up your pint while I get my own, or…?”

“How about I go with you.” Richard offered. “I happen to know the bartender on this evening, she’s rather biased. Might go faster if I’m there.” 

Richard hopped down from his high top chair and led Oscar to the bar, instantly going into a conversation and seeming to forget the rest of the world. 

“And you must be the man who came to dash my dreams,” David said as he turned to Ezra, his tone oddly friendly despite his words.

Ezra found himself blushing. “Ezra,” He introduced himself. “I do apologize for hurting you.”

David shrugged. “Was bound to happen. Might as well have a seat, Ezra. They may not be coming back for a while, and if they do, I doubt they’ll have much interest in us.”

Ezra nodded, then climbed up on the chair beside David, glancing at him nervously.

David reached across the table to pull Richard’s barely touched pint glass over toward Ezra. “Might as well have it, he’s not coming back. At least not for that one.”

“Oh, well, thank you. I think.”

David smirked in a self-deprecating way. “At least this way I could say I bought _someone_ a drink.”

“Oh, well then.” Ezra flashed a smile, glancing at the bar to see Oscar and Richard more engaged in conversation with each other than trying to flag down Richard’s friend. “So, what is it you do?” He asked the bearded bloke before taking a small sip of the pint.

“I’m a Maths teacher.” He replied, taking a sip of his own drink. “You?”

“English teacher,” Ezra replied. “Though I’m a little behind compared to some. I’m only in my second year, and have only been covering leaves so far.”

“Not here in London?”

“No, I don’t live in the city.” Ezra shook his head. “Are you saying I maybe should?”

David shrugged, gave a bit of a grin. “I do know of a few spots that may be looking for a teacher come next year. Have you considered it? Moving here?”

_“London,” Ezra said, stretched out beside Anthony as they laid out on a blanket in the backyard of his house, staring up at the sky._

_“Isn’t that a bit obvious?”_

_“Maybe? I could see you in London.” Ezra said, turning his head slightly, smiling a little._

_“Big house. No, a big flat right in the center of it all. See Big Ben out my front window.”_

_Ezra giggled. “Suppose one day you could afford that.”_

_“You might, too.” Anthony insisted._

“No,” Ezra lied because it was too painful to get into the truth at the moment. The memory seemed to have come from nowhere, almost so strong that he could nearly smell the grass they’d laid on, hear the ruckus of his sister and Dierdre. “No, never once. I lived here when I was a child, and I don’t remember a terrible amount from then, but I don’t remember it ever feeling like home.” He added on a little bit of truth, taking away from the bad taste the previous words brought.

“Ah,” David nodded. “Well, maybe it could. One day.”

“Perhaps.” Ezra agreed. “Although I must admit that the pay would have to be better than what I’m earning now.”

David gave a short, mirthless laugh. “Well, mate, it likely won’t be much better.” He took a drink, eyeing Richard and Oscar. Ezra glanced over and found they were deep in conversation, essentially sitting at the bar together.

“I should hate you,” David said, earning Ezra’s attention. His face was stoic, but there was a glimmer in his eye that said he wasn’t out to be unkind. “Bringing along a man like that.”

“Does it help in any way to know that man once asked me to marry him, and I declined?” Ezra asked before taking another drink. 

David’s lips twitched ever so slightly, “Maybe a little.” He conceded. “But only a very, very little. You seem much more of a catch than him. Least you seem to have personality. I couldn’t blame Richard if he’d fallen that hard so quickly for a man with personality.”

Ezra pursed his lips briefly. “That might have been the most polite thing I’d ever heard about my personal style.” He said with a smirk. “Personality, indeed.”

“You’d probably be far too handsome if you dressed conventionally.” David retorted with a shrug.

Ezra was quite at a loss for words, so after a moment, he giggled. “I do believe you’re flirting with me.” He said in mild disbelief.

“I’m trying,” David replied with one of those smiles that made him so very lovely.

It reminded Ezra, briefly, of someone else who’s smile made them lovely. But he had always been lovely. So, he pushed the thought aside and went after what was in front of him.

“I’m quite enjoying it,” Ezra admitted. “I’m probably not the best at the return, so you’ll have to forgive me my follies in that regard. But I’ll certainly make an attempt at it.”

“The ol’ college try?” David teased.

“Quite right,” Ezra countered, his grin only growing.

“Hey, sunshine!” 

Gabriel’s voice had him stopped short, and he met David’s eye, wondering if maybe he’d only imagined it.

“Sunshine?” David questioned as Gabriel slipped into one of the seats next to Ezra.

“I’m not sure where he got that from,” Ezra replied.

As Gabriel opened his mouth, David spoke.

“No, I can see it,” He said, eyes flickering over Ezra’s face. “When you smiled, before. Like having the whole bloody sun shining on you. Or a heavenly host of angels.”

Ezra’s heart lunged in his throat, and his smile faltered.

“Sorry, did I…?” David asked, having noticed.

“There was this guy,” Gabriel said as he slipped his arm around Ezra’s shoulders, not noticing or not caring how Ezra tried to discreetly shrug off the possessive hold. “He used to call him angel all the time. But the asshole just tossed this one aside, didn’t even care how he hurt him.”

“Gabriel, that wasn’t quite how it happened,” Ezra said as he shifted a bit, making it just uncomfortable enough for Gabriel’s reach that he had to drop his arm. Ezra then looked to a confused and yet intrigued David. “My dearest friend from when I was younger… he and I … there were words, it’s all been forgiven, but we haven’t spoken in a few years. He used to call me 'angel'.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” David said genuinely. 

“It’s alright, there is no possible way you could have known.” Ezra rushed to say, reaching across the table and putting his hand on David’s in reassurance.

David glanced down at it, his lip curling up. He lifted his thumb and brushed the side of Ezra’s hand. “Well, he had it right.” He said before meeting Ezra’s eye again. “Sounds like maybe we might have even more in common than simply being teachers.”

“Oh?” Ezra asked, the heaviness of before lifting.

“Would you like to get dinner with me sometime so we can find out?” David asked.

“Actually-” Gabriel started in a rush.

“I would be delighted,” Ezra replied emphatically. “You know, there was a delightful little spot around here, or at least it looked so when I had come to meet Richard.”

“Oh, the place, looks French?” David asked, moving his hand out from beneath Ezra’s to gesture.

“Yes!” Ezra said. 

“Oh, fantastic place. Excellent crepes.”

Ezra chuckled. “Well then, perhaps over the crepes I can tell you a tale that started with them and ended with a jail cell.”

“I’d like that.” David grinned, then glanced at Oscar and Richard. “Should I see if they intend to join us while I get one for your friend?”

Ezra had almost forgotten Gabriel was there. He nodded, humming his agreement, and once David was up and away from the table, he turned to Gabriel.

The poor man looked absolutely baffled like he wasn’t sure if what happened had in fact taken place, or whether or not this was a dream, and any moment he would discover he wasn’t wearing any pants.

Or maybe that was a bit of what Ezra was feeling, surprised to find himself so willing to open up to someone not Eliza for the first time in years.

“Sorry,” Ezra said sheepishly. “I must admit I had come with the intention of introducing you to a couple of people, but….”

“Did… did you really just agree to a date with that guy?” Gabriel asked.

“Yes, and I know it was terribly rude of me.” Ezra went to apologize.

“ _That_ guy?” Gabriel asked again, throwing a thumb in the direction David went off in. “Seriously?”

Ezra shrugged. “He’s rather charming. And quite handsome, if I do say.”

Gabriel stared a moment, then shook his head, picking up Ezra’s pint (which was originally Richard’s), and downed it.

~C~

Crowley liked working for the Dowlings for the most part. 

The garden was massive, and while he was often sweaty and exhausted by the end of the day, he loved every second of it. He loved making the plants thrive, he loved making the garden the best it’s looked in decades (butler’s words, multiple times in the months since Crowley came on staff). He liked his little house tucked into the corner of the estate, separate from the rest of the staff, which was feeling more like his place than his flat in London ever did.

But, there were things he didn’t like about it. He didn’t like how lonely it could get, for one. He was able to call or text his friends (Bea, essentially just Bea) everyday, or his mom or Tony if he was desperate. Chrissy on occasion, but she was just young enough to feel too young compared to Crowley, and he remembered what university was like in those first years. He could leave the estate, but they were quite a stretch away from anything but a little village about forty-five minutes away, and an American airbase where they weren’t supposed to go anyway. So, getting away had to be an all-day thing if he wanted to go anywhere exciting, and most weekends when he was off he slept most of it.

There was also TJ.

Thaddeus Dowling the third, or TJ, was a hellion. 

He was loud. He was obnoxious. He was awfully full of himself for a seven-year-old.

He reminded Crowley a bit of a certain purple-eyed bloke in mini form. Except, of course, he was a miniature version of Thaddeus Dowling the second, who was never, ever there.

TJ was also the reason that Crowley stopped going by AJ to everyone who didn’t already know him, or who he didn’t particularly like. It had the added bonus of having people with any vague connection to London finances to ask if he was James’ boy. Which, eventually, would grate on James when he got wind of it. 

TJ was one of those he didn’t particularly like, which Crowley knew was an awful thought to have about a child. Still, it was the truth.

TJ would never admit he was the one who ruined various flower beds or broke a few trees. His nanny didn’t seem to care. Nor did his teachers. Or anyone, really, except his mother who had just made it a fireable offense for any adult to allow TJ outside the non-designated play area, well away from Crowley’s plants, trees, and house.

“So, hopefully, you won’t be replanting these a sixth time,” Harriet said from the other side of the flower bed Crowley was fixing up.

“Thanks, Mrs. Dowling.” He replied as he pushed a little soil around the base of some tulips.

“Harriet, please.” She insisted for… admittedly, Crowley lost track of how many times she’d said that. 

“Harriet,” he conceded. 

“If it helps, very good chance that TJ will be off to a boarding school next year.” She said as she looked over her shoulder, seeing who was around, who was listening. Secret service didn’t follow her around so much now that they were used to him, but there was always someone hovering twenty or so feet away. “I’ve been trying to tell Thad for a couple years now that he’d outgrown tutors. And if they are going to keep us here indefinitely….”

“Boarding school, though?” Crowley asked in spite of himself. It was the first time he had a conversation with anyone even close to his own age in weeks. Men in black weren’t very chatty, and not all of the staff in the house thought him worthy of conversation. “Even I didn’t go to boarding school, and I was from one of those families that _would_ send their kids off.”

“Really?” Harriet asked, crossing her arms.

“Wealthy father in finances, always in London. Wealthy mother in medicine, always in London. Hell, still surprises me they let me go to public school and didn’t ship me off.”

“Well,” Harriet said, looking over her shoulder again, gaze lingering on something or someone a moment before she continued, “Can’t exactly send him to school in the village. Boarding school is as close as I’m going to get to giving him any sort of normal life.”

“And you wouldn’t mind having him not around most of the year,” Crowley smirked as he planted another bunch.

Harriet leaned toward him, “Am I that obvious?”

“No,” Crowley lied obviously, shaking his head. “Not at all, ma’am,” He said with a wink, chuckling as she blushed furiously. 

Harriet giggled, straightening up and snorting a bit before hiding her face behind her hands, shaking her head. “Right, well, I’m going now.” She said without moving. “Let you fix my poor plants.”

“ _Your_ poor plants?” He asked with mock offense, rearing back slightly to look at her agape. He imagined if he didn’t have his contacts in, that it might look a bit more comical. Like a very surprised snake. 

“Fine,” Harriet conceded. “America’s plants.”

“On British soil.” Crowley countered.

“Which is why we hired a British gardener.,” Harriet teased before turning and heading back to the house.

Crowley watched her for a moment, smiling at the thrill of the banter. Something he hadn’t really had since….

No. It’s been three years. Three years, he had to let it go. Let _him_ go. 

And he would. 

Eventually. 

Maybe.

~A~

The night was quiet, and silver light from the moon came through the window to spill over them. Sheets were haphazardly tossed over their waists, not like modesty was necessary at this point. But it was the thing, wasn’t it? Or at least Ezra thought it should be. 

Their breaths were caught, but he and David were still laying side by side, staring at the ceiling in silence. Comfortable silence, though. Their fingers were loosely entwined between them, thumbs lightly caressing one another.

“Do,” David spoke for the first time in a while, and Ezra looked toward him, turning his head only slightly. David frowned ever so slightly before starting again. “Do you ever realize that maybe there was something you should have said? Before things… happen.”

Ezra turned back to the ceiling. “Yes,” he said to the stucco above him. “I have.”

“It’s nothing… nothing bad,” David said reassuringly. “I’m not about to tell you maybe we should have taken more precautions or anything.” 

Ezra hummed in understanding.

“It’s just, well, to be honest? I’m … not really over Richard.”

Ezra turned his head and studied the beautiful man beside him. The wonderful, smart, fun man who was a gentle, considerate lover (not that Ezra had much experience with that), and felt… nothing.

They’d been seeing each other for three months, and things had been going well, all things considered. They really only got together on weekends and spent the rest of the week with sporadic texts or phone calls to make up for it. An hour or so ago, after a wonderful dinner filled with good conversation, followed by dessert and being pressed against David’s flat’s door, they’d fallen into bed for the first time.

It was everything Ezra thought it should be, except for one thing: it lacked love. It had been lust-fueled, burning with excellent chemistry which ignited just the right amount of pleasure. It had scratched an itch Ezra hadn’t realized he had, and probably could have gone on ignoring, and he’d gladly do it again should David be amiable. But if he had hoped it would spark a deeper affection for the man, he’d have been disappointed.

It was a good thing the hope had been small.

“It’s fine, I assure you,” Ezra replied, taking David’s hand and placing a kiss on his knuckles. “Some people are hard to let go of.”

David hummed, turning to Ezra. “You’re awfully understanding.” He said. “I don’t think most people would take well to being told such a thing after sex.”

Ezra shrugged. “I would rather be told than have to wonder at it.” He said, giving David’s hand a squeeze before dropping it. “And I would be quite a hypocrite if I held such a thing over your head when there is a part of my heart still in mourning.”

David frowned before rolling on to his side. He propped himself up on one arm, looking down at Ezra and studying him. 

“It hurts, doesn’t it?”

“Terribly.” Ezra agreed. “But, I figured if I hung on to something I never had, and never will, I’d be a fool.”

“We’d be a pair of them.” David agreed, chuckling a bit as Ezra cracked a grin. “Can I ask you something? Might be a bit weird considering we’re naked.”

Ezra tried not to smile. “Alright.” He agreed.

David studied him a moment, kissing him quickly before asking, “Why did you never date Gabriel?”

“That is an odd question.” Ezra mused, snatching David’s free hand, playing with his fingers. He considered the answer, knowing where it was coming from. “I suppose I’m really not certain.” He confessed. “Only, when I thought of the future, at any point since meeting him, I could never see him by my side. Not in that way. I had, once, believed maybe Oscar… but when he asked me to marry him it made me realize that simply loving someone wasn’t quite enough. And I suppose I could say I love Gabriel to a degree, he is one of my dearest friends. But… not enough.” He looked up and met David’s eye. “I suppose it might be the same with Richard.”

“Do you think you could love me?” David asked a little cheekily.

“I believe it’s too early to say for sure, but if you keep doing that very particular thing you did,” Ezra replied, earning a hearty laugh from David.

His head thrown back as he guffawed with raw honesty, smile bright and throat exposed, Ezra wanted to love him. He wanted to love this man so badly he nearly ached with it. But he could spark anything, not yet. Perhaps, in a few months, after he and his mother and Eliza went away, he’d find his heart will have grown fonder.

When David got himself a little under control, he laughed as he kissed the giggles quiet in Ezra using small little pecks to calm him down.

“Alright, then, Ezra. Tell me who you did love enough. Because I can tell, there was someone.”

“There was,” Ezra agreed. “And since I have already heard the whole tale involving Richard,”

“From both sides, probably.” David inputted.

“Indeed,” Ezra conceded. “Then allow me to spin my own tale of unrequited affection. Though I must warn you, it ends far less happily than yours.”

“Oh, a tragedy.” David teased. “Always was a bit fond of those tales.”

Ezra’s heart ached a moment, but he grinned through it. “It begins on a November day when I was thirteen.”

David settled in, and listened, touching and assuring as Ezra spun a tale that would serve to either bring them closer in mutual heartache or farther from any chance of being anything real.

**2013**

~C~

“Harriet Dowling, how is the mistress of the manor?” Crowley asked as he spotted her lingering on the path not far ahead of him. 

It had been a year since he started working on the Dowling estate, and he was enjoying it more each day. 

For one, TJ was sent off to school in September and was now only around shortly before and during holidays, and as well as summer break. He was still very much a hellion, but because he had more structure and rules, he was better about making sure not to break them. He still terrorized more of the staff than not, still thought himself the king of this ruddy patch of England, and Crowley was still sure he was the only child he’d ever met and disliked. Even TJ’s friends were infinitely better than him.

For another, the Dowlings weren’t around for the American holidays, usually flying out to wherever they came from originally (Harriet had told him a few times, but he could never recall). It meant that they were gone from some strange, arbitrary time near the end of November until after the new year, giving everyone on the estate an extended vacation should they choose. Which Crowley did. He did not go back to London, not for any more than the required days he was expected to be there by James.

Which brought him to another point: the Dowlings didn’t rightly care what _he_ looked like. Any in house staff was expected to look polished and dressed sharply. Crowley got away with long-sleeved tees, worn jeans that looked too tight for any sort of manual labor, and having his hair what some might call impractically long. He’d have never guessed he had curled, but once it got past his shoulders, the waves in it started to twist. Harriet envied his hair, said so many many times when he had it loose and down. TJ tried to say he looked like the princess in _Brave_ , but it wasn’t anywhere near that bushy. 

They also didn’t seem to care about whether or not he wore his colored contacts.

Alright, correction, _Harriet_ didn’t seem to care. Thaddeus was around so little, he’d barely remembered meeting Crowley to hire him. Harriet, on the other hand, was almost always on the estate. She would fly out to this thing or that when needed as the ambassador’s wife, but this was her base, and where she would spend most of her time.

When she first discovered his natural eyes, it had been in an early morning pop down to his cottage at the back of the estate. It was a Saturday, technically his day off, but there had been a wicked storm the night before, and a tree had come down near where TJ played, and she was worried. He’d answered the door, mostly still asleep, forgetting sunglasses, contacts, and a shirt. Harriet’s yelp woke him up, and after a lot of uncomfortable questions, she let it go.

Still stared a lot, though, so Crowley got in the habit of carrying his sunglasses around in case she or people were floating around. At least he fit in to a degree, what with the suits about.

“Afternoon, AJ,” Harriet greeted, turning toward him with a grin. “How was your week?”

“Busy. You’ve got a new hedge thing over there,” He pointed out to the sitting area he worked on at Thaddeus’ request. “Hear you’ll be hosting.”

Harriet groaned. “Not looking forward to that. Technically the former president and his wife are meant to be visiting someone else, but Thad and he are buddies, so guess where they’re staying.”

“Yeah, I was told to take a hike for those few days.”

“What?” Harriet asked, looking terribly put out. “Why?”

Crowley shrugged. “Who wants the gardener hanging about?”

“I want the gardener hanging about.” Harriet retorted. “You’re the only decent conversation around here. Even if you don’t know what football is.” She said as she turned and they fell into step with each other.

“Oh, no, no. You do not watch football. You watch… rugby with the wrong ball and the wrong rules.”

Harriet laughed, and Crowley grinned. 

“We agreed to disagree.” She reminded him, poking him in the ribs.

“You brought it up,” He argued. “What are you doing out here, anyway? Thought you’d be back up in the house ordering about the poor souls in there in preparation.” 

“What, like Netherfield is let at last?” She smirked.

“I knew I should have never watched that movie with you. You have no taste.” He said with a scowl he didn’t mean.

“You’re the one who wanted to watch it.” Harriet reminded him. “Why, anyway? You looked like you were pained the whole time.”

“It has… sentimental value. Watched it with someone I really cared about before. And, _and_ , you said you’ve never seen it.” 

“Yeah, and?” She countered, slowing as Crowley stepped off the path to the flower bed that needed tending to. 

He got down on his knees, examining the plants. “’S a classic, isn’t it? ‘Sides, you had me watching that… that _monstrosity_ with a poor depiction of Scotland.”

Harriet scoffed and shook her head. “You have no taste.” She taunted.

“I have brilliant taste,” Crowley countered. “And you know it.”

“We on for tonight, then?” She asked. 

“Depends.” He said carefully. “What are we watching?”

“It’s your night to pick,” Harriet replied.

“Oh, well then, yes. We’re on.” He said with a toothy grin.

“I’m going to fire you.” She said with a smile as she shook her head again and started walking away.

“No one will ever get your hydrangeas to bloom like me, and we both know it. You need me, Harriet.” He raised his voice, laughing when she flashed him the middle finger and a grin over her shoulder.

He grinned when she was gone, and then forced himself to sober. 

_She’s not him. She’s not even close to him_. Crowley reminded himself. 

~*~

“I’m so going to fire you,” Harriet said softly near his ear, and he smirked.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” He said casually over his shoulder, his eyes darting down a moment where her cleavage was protruding a touch too much.

Harriet righted herself quickly, glancing around at the crowd that was essentially ignoring her, and took the empty seat next to Crowley in corner of the outdoor seating area set up for the big to-do with a bunch of American politicians Crowley knew nothing about.

He crashed the party because he could, and no one would be the wiser. He used his blue contacts, changing his eye color enough that he could play stupid with Thad if he had bothered to pay any real attention to anyone aside from himself and the president. With Crowley’s hair smartly tied at the nape of his neck, and an all-black suit sharply tailored, he blended in fairly effortlessly. The secret service might have realized who he was, but they wouldn’t say anything now if they were going to at all.

So, Crowley sipped the expensive champagne they were handing out, nibbled on little hors d’oeuvres he snatched a plate of, and simply enjoyed the circus.

“What if someone noticed you?” She asked quietly, trying to adjust the plunging neckline of her dress as discreetly as she could.

“Like who?” Crowley asked, amused.

“Waitstaff?” 

“Frank’s got a bottle or two of the good stuff tucked away for when this lot is too drunk to notice the difference. Think he’s gonna rat me out for sitting here with a glass and a nibble?”

Harriet seemed to lose her fight then and slumped. “Think they have an extra one I could take myself?”

“You’re not loving all this?” Crowley asked as he gestured to the room at large.

“I never wanted this,” Harriet replies. “I wanted to go into law. I was working my way through it when I wound up pregnant.”

“So you married Thad.” Crowley nodded.

Harriet scoffed. “I was already married to him. Married him right out of High School. But we weren’t supposed to have kids for a few years. And then, well.” She shrugged, sipping her near-empty glass.

Crowley looked at her, took her in. He’d always thought he saw a little sadness in her eyes, in her smile. She was one of those people who were pretty but could have been beautiful if they were happy.

Someone laughed, loud and obnoxious, and Harriet sneered.

“That man,” She said, pointing to the former president as he and Thad chatted and laughed some more. “That man is the reason why I was alone when I had TJ. Because apparently childbirth is the ‘single most joyful experience a couple could share’ except when the president of the united states needs you for something. I was twenty-one years old, alone, scared, and my husband wasn’t anywhere to be seen. I called, and was told to just… wait an hour or so.”

“Sorry, why did you marry him?” Crowley asked, setting down his glass and turning toward her. “Seriously, why? I mean, right after school? What was the reason behind that?”

Harriet sighed, looking at her husband wistfully. “I don’t know anymore.” She said. “I was young and thought this was just one of those things I could check off a list, one that held everything for the perfect life. I didn’t think I would mind his always being away because I was supposed to be busy being a lawyer, or maybe something more. But…. I loved him - _love_ him - but if I had known back then? Where I would be now? I don’t know if I would have.”

“It never turns out how we imagine, does it?” He asked, and Harriet turned to him, her eyes darting about his face. “Those dreams we have when we’re young, they never turn out, do they?”

“No,” Harriet agreed. “They don’t.”

Crowley watched her for a long time, seeing his loneliness in Harriet, and wishing very strongly he didn’t. Almost in sync, they each took a drink of champagne, a long one, and then set down their flutes. 

“I’m going to go back to my cottage.” He told her as he stood, straightening out his jacket before he re-fastened the button. “Goodnight, Harriet.”

He turned and walked away, not saying anything to anyone else, and no one paying him any attention. If they noticed him leave the party via the path to the Gardener's cottage, he was sure Harriet would cover for him.

At least, he was sure she would if he wasn’t very, very certain that it was her heels on the cobblestone he heard following him into the dark of the night. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I loved every single one of your reactions to the last chapter. The next one is still in the past, as originally it was going to be part of this one but it would have been far too long. I *think" there will be a back to back 2019 chapter set for roughly the same reason following it, but I haven't looked at the order of things just yet.  
> Until next time
> 
> Chapter title from "Everything You Are" by Ed Sheeran


	26. Happy is the Heart That Still Feels Pain

**2013**

As Ezra got off the plane, Eliza at his side, he was far more tired than he should be, given it was a vacation.

“I’m quite sure I never want to leave the country again,” He said to his sister as they emerged from the walkway into the main terminal. 

“I’m already planning my next trip,” Eliza smirked. “Just imagining a warm, sunny beach and delightful foreign men.”

“Dear, you’re incorrigible.” Ezra sighed as he grinned slightly.

“You are not allowed to talk,” Eliza accused. “David gave you carte blanche to do whatever you wish, and I _know_ you did what you wished.”

“I may have kissed a few blokes, but that hardly puts me anywhere on level with you.” He countered as they headed toward baggage claim. “You were safe, weren’t you?”

“Of course I was.” Eliza shot him a glare. “But you’re only young and fit once, and what’s the point in life if you aren’t going to allow yourself a little bit of fun now and then?”

Ezra rolled his shoulders. “We have many things in common, but that is where we differ,” Ezra replied.

“Because you’ve never been young or fit?” Eliza grinned cheekily, laughing when Ezra playfully punched her in the arm. “It wasn’t as bad as you’re thinking.” She eased his concern. “Besides, I’ve been eyeing a particular bloke when I’ve been in London now and then for work. See him around in the same coffee shop, flirted with him a couple of times. Now _he’s_ fit. Delightful. Practically the physical embodiment of sin.” 

“Well, I wish you luck in your latest pursuit,” Ezra said as he half hugged her while waiting with others on the lift.

Eliza said nothing for a time, but he could feel her looking at him.

“How are things with David?” She asked as the lift dinged and they filed on with a few others.

“Well,” he replied. Because they were well. 

He and David were comfortable, and Ezra was pretty sure that’s how they both liked it. They enjoyed one another’s company, trading off weekends at each other’s flats. It was nothing for them to take their work with them to the other’s place for marking. They would quietly work snuggled together, tea always at the ready, kisses stolen from time to time. They’d grab a show or watch a film, sometimes just enjoy a stroll together or dinner out. They’d lose themselves in each other at night, and by Sunday afternoon, not long before tea time, they would part ways for the rest of the week.

They’d agreed they were a couple, but when Ezra parted for the trip with his mother and sister as was planned, it was as though they agreed to put a pause on what was happening between them for the summer.

“Have you heard from mum?” He asked Eliza, a small lump forming in his throat.

“No,” She replied. “Though that might be because I listened to her when she said not to worry, or call, and to just enough the rest of the trip she’d already paid for.” She countered, glancing up at him. After a moment, she sighed, “That’s not to say I didn’t worry.”

Ezra grabbed her hand, and they gave each other a squeeze before the lift dinged again, and everyone began to file out.

They’d barely gotten five feet away from the lift when Eliza groaned, “Oh no, please tell me you didn’t ask him to meet us here.”

Ezra frowned, glancing around as they continued to move, and then spotted Gabriel waving at them with a big smile on his face.

“I did not,” Ezra replied. “But at least now we don’t need to call on a taxi cab.”

“I would rather the taxi cab,” Eliza said as she tugged him toward the luggage claim, flashing Gabriel a wave and a half-hearted smile. “What should we do about mum, though?” She was asking as they stayed side by side, back turned to Gabriel while waiting for their suitcases. 

“Is that a hint that I should move back in with her?” Ezra asked, spotting Eliza’s bright pink case and grabbing it for her.

“No,” Eliza replied instantly. “Imagine trying to -”

“Not here, please.” He interrupted.

“Well… imagine having David over, then, with mum about. No, I just… we know it’s back. We all know it. No one will say it, but we do know. So what will happen, what will we do, when we get the confirmation? Go back to having a nurse about?”

“We’ll have to,” Ezra said as he spotted his tartan case coming down the belt. “Neither of us can exactly quit our jobs, nor would she want that.” He paused to collect his case. Once it was set down, the handle extended, he continued. “And while we have our suspicions, we’ll just have to wait until we talk to her again to know for sure. It’s entirely possible mum just wasn’t feeling well in general.”

Eliza mumbled something like an agreement as they headed off to where Gabriel eagerly awaited them. 

“Sunshine!” He half-shouted, and Ezra winced when Eliza visibly cringed. “I’m glad you’re back, how was the trip?”

“It was fine, Gabriel.” He replied, glancing at Eliza who seemed to be doing her very best not to glare. 

“Great, great.” Gabriel nodded as he reached for Eliza’s bag. She seemed to let it go with great reluctance. “You know, I have to say, I was in London for an interview and I saw David around.” 

“Did you say hello?” Ezra asked as Gabriel started to lead them toward the car park.

“Uh, no.” He said in a gentle way someone would use to break the bad news. “See, he was with another man. And, well, it looks like they were on a date.”

“Well, it would hardly be fair of me if I didn’t allow him to see other people while I was away. Especially since I was given permission to act how I wish.”

Eliza hummed dreamily, “Still very, very jealous that tall, dark bloke in Greece swung your way and not mine.”

“You… met men while you were away?” Gabriel asked, his voice just a touch too broken to really sound as interested as he tried to.

“I did,” Ezra replied as they got to Gabriel’s car. “Nothing too salacious happened, of course. I tend to want to know someone before we become familiar in that way.”

“What does that say about me?” Eliza asked with a cheeky grin.

“That you’re extremely affectionate,” Ezra replied without missing a beat, offering a grin. “Now, shall we go back to mums?”

~C~  
  


The night of the party with the former president, months back, just on the cusp of summer had been the start of his fall. Well, maybe not his fall so much as the beginning of his saunter straight down to hell. Okay, perhaps not hell, but it was something very much not good.

Even when it felt the complete opposite.

That night she had followed him, they had gone into his cottage like they had done so many times. But there was no film to go with their wine, which was compounded with the champagne from the party and finding someone else who shared a certain sort of misery. They did act like a pair of teenagers on his sofa, snogging furiously with hands and bodies being insistent over clothes until sounds neither should ever have heard from the other spilled from mouths. When the haze of pleasure and lust had cleared, Harriet straightened her dress and left.

Understandably, they didn’t speak for a week, and when they did, it was so she could inform him that the Dowlings would be going back to America for the summer, and he should feel free to stay on the grounds as always. 

She met his eye, which was more than Crowley had expected.

When they returned, TJ was sent back to school Thad was somewhere else in the world, and Harriet came around again as if nothing ever happened.

So, Crowley went along with it. 

This lasted until near the end of October. 

It had been another night like the first, too much liquor, too little common sense, and overwhelming loneliness, except this time hands went under clothes. 

Which was why he wasn’t at all surprised when mid-November, while the Dowlings should have been getting ready for their Thanksgiving trip but didn’t, he found himself stripping Harriet of her clothes as she pulled him toward his bed.

November had been rough the last four years for him as it was. Seeing what was essentially his best friend on his doorstep bawling her eyes out because her husband wasn’t able to tear himself away from work didn’t make it easier. Thad promised Christmas, of course, but he was just really needed over in China during that time, no one else could swing it. And wasn’t it bad for TJ to be pulling him out of school like that when they didn’t have Thanksgiving here? Their family understands, it’s the life of a diplomat after all.

There wasn’t alcohol that time. There should have been. He’d say there was because there had to be a reason he would have found himself in such a compromising position. Several, actually.

There wasn’t alcohol the next time, a few days later when they found themselves conveniently in the greenhouse at night. He might have mentioned needing to tend to something there, and that he would be there within certain hours when they ran into each other on the ground that morning. He wasn’t at all surprised when she came to him, or that they didn’t leave until well after midnight.

He wished there was alcohol this time because somehow he was _inside_ the bloody house, which he hadn’t been since he was hired over a year ago. Not beyond the kitchens, anyway, when he found himself out of something and found it easier to run up and ask one of the staff for it than arranging a run to the store.

He sat on the edge of the bed, which he was at least relieved to know wasn’t the one she had with Thad, the room was too small, plain, and out of the way to belong to anyone who lived in the house proper. 

Crowley threw his legs over the side of the bed, standing only long enough to put his trousers back on, then rubbed his hands over his face and felt guilt hit him like a freight train. 

“We can’t do this,” He said to his palms. “I don’t know how the fuck we got here, but we can’t keep doing this.”

Harriet sighed, “You’re right.” She agreed. “We’re….”

“We’re playing with fire,” Crowley said to her over his shoulder as he dropped his hands in his lap. “Look where we are, Harriet. Look where this has led us.” He said gesturing around the room. “My cottage wasn’t… but this is worse.”

“You can’t say it doesn’t feel a bit right, though.” She said to his surprise. When he gaped at her, panic welling inside him, she shrugged. “I don’t love you, AJ. I’m not saying I’m about to leave Thaddeus for you or anything. But, it feels good. And we’re so good together. Tell me you’ve had sex this good before.”

Crowley blinked, “Yeah, I have.” He replied. “If I’m going to be honest, I’ve probably had better.”

“Hey!” Harriet cried in outrage, though he could see she didn’t mean it.

He couldn’t help but grin a little. “Well, you’re married! Sorta puts a damper on the afterglow when you remember you’re no better than your parents. Any of them.”

“You’re going to talk about your parents now?” She asked, nearly mimicking his eyebrow arch.

“Family of cheaters, the lot of them. Mum, Dad, man who raised me.”

“You’re not the cheater, you’re the mistress.” Harriet pointed out.

The smile fell from Crowley’s lips. “Don’t wanna be the mistress, Harriet. And… what about when he finds out? Because he will find out. These things, when they last, they don’t stay hidden. We’ve been lucky, and luck could run out between now and my cottage. Hell, for all we know, luck already ran out, and we’ve been caught.”

“AJ,” Harriet sighed. “He’s never here. Time, and time again, he’s proven that everything comes before me.”

“So leave him,” Crowley said as he got to his feet. “Fuck sakes, what is with you smart people sticking with assholes and messing around and not just walking the bloody hell away!?” He pulled at his hair which draped across his chest, feeling the tug in his sculpt. 

“I can’t leave him, AJ.” She said. “I can’t. The scandal-”

“And what do you think is going to happen if we were discovered?” He asked her plaintively. “Me? I’m the bloody gardener. I get fired, sent on my merry way, and that’s that. Might get some looks, might have people wonder if I was _that_ Crowley, but it’s not going to be about me.”

Harriet’s eyes widened. “Shit.” She swore. “Oh, shit! I didn’t even… _shit!_ ”

Crowley nodded, watching her press her hand to her mouth in absolute horror. Then, he picked up his shirt off the floor and pulled it over his head, pulling his hair out of the collar before straightening it out. He put on his shoes and paused.

This wasn’t going to stop. He knew it wouldn’t. They would probably put some distance between themselves for December, made easier by their time away for the holidays. But by January? February? When Thad would be gone for Valentine’s day, then her birthday. When TJ was away and the people around them didn’t pay so much attention to them? There would be liquor, and the liquor would lead to the bedroom of where ever they were, and the cycle would repeat. Not because he loved her, not because he wanted her, but because he needed her. And not in the way anyone should ever be needed.

“I think….” He said, standing without looking at her. “Expect a letter of resignation when you come back from holiday.” He glanced over in time to see Harriet whip her head around to look at him in a panic.

“You’re going to quit?”

“You really think this will end if I don’t?” He asked with a joyless smile. “We’re using each other for the same reasons, Harriet. Staying here isn’t going to fix that, at least not for me.”

“And what about me?” She asked softly.

He bent down to kiss her forehead.

“I don’t know.” He said softly. “But you deserve better than this. Me. Him.”

He kissed her forehead again, and quite nearly pressed his own to hers before he stopped himself. 

Crowley left the room without looking back.

~A~

“Your sister’s been in London a lot as of late,” Cynthia said as she sat at the table, watching Ezra work on preparing a fairly simple Christmas eve dinner. 

She’d been having a good day, and Ezra wanted to keep it that way. The odds, this time, were not on her side. The cancer had spread, and while they caught it before it got too bad, she was older, weaker, and they weren’t as positive she would beat it a second time.

“She has been,” he agreed. “She got the chance to join David and I for drinks before meeting this man she was seeing a week ago.”

“Have you met him?” Cynthia asked.

“Do I ever,” He countered with a grin.

“Ezra,” She chided.

“No, mum, I didn’t meet him. I imagine when she’s actually serious about someone again, she will make the introductions.”

There was a pause in conversation as he finished peeling the potatoes, rinsing his hands, and drying them before checking on the chicken slowly roasting in the oven of the Fell family kitchen.

“And you? Is David serious yet?” She asked as Ezra closed the oven door.

He sighed, turning to face her. “I don’t know.” He shrugged. “When we’re together, we’re together. We’re not seeing other people right now, and when we got back from our trip, we picked up as if nothing happened. He’d gone on a date or two while we were separated, but he said he didn’t care for any of them.”

“And does he care about you?” Cynthia asked.

“He and I have an understanding,” Ezra replied finally, smiling as his mother frowned. “Don’t look at me like that. He calls me his partner, so it’s hardly like we’re beneficial friends. I just don’t know if it’s going to go much farther than it has.”

“Ezra,” Cynthia said gently, patting the spot at the little table in the kitchen, one that was brought in a few years back when the big family table wasn’t used enough. 

Ezra sat down, turning to his mother, listening.

“Why won’t you let yourself be happy?” She asked.

“I am,” he defended, but she was shaking her head.

“You’re content, you’re not happy.”

Ezra pondered a moment. “I am content.” He agreed. “But I’m not going to ask for more than that. I don’t have the patience. I had been happy once, and we know how that ended.”

“You could call him.” She reminded him.

“It’s been years, mum. Years. And… he was the one who walked away. He was the one who ended it. He apologized, and I forgave him, but that doesn’t mean he wanted to have things back the way they were. It could have simply meant he didn’t want anything hanging over his head. I can understand that.”

“They sold the house, you know.” She said gently.

“I did know.” He said. “I remembered seeing it listed in the papers.”

“So why are you still here?” She asked gently. 

“Whatever do you mean?” Ezra asked.

Cynthia shook her head, a loving yet exasperated smile on her lips. “Ezra Thomas Fell, do not take me for an idiot. You came back here because you hoped he would, too. You hoped, deep down, that something would bring him back here, and you would see him. You’re miserable, none of your friends live here, and you’re still only working placement to placement.”

“Mum,” He started.

“Don’t you dare use me as an excuse.” She chided gently.

Ezra huffed, crossing his arms, knowing he was caught out.

“Mum, I… I can’t, I-” He stopped when he heard the front door open, and the whirlwind of Eliza came in the house. 

“Oh, god, what’s that smell?” She asked from the entryway, and Ezra and Cynthia exchanged a confused glance before sniffing the air.

“What smell?” Ezra asked his sister with a frown as she came into the kitchen, nose wrinkled. 

She took a couple of sniffs, following whatever she was smelling toward the stove. She sniffed around it, then opened the oven just a moment before promptly closing it, covering her mouth. She took a deep breath, then another.

“Right.” She said after a moment, composing herself before dropping her hand to her stomach.

“What is wrong with you?” Ezra asked her.

“Oh, right.” She said, clearing her throat. She turned to face them, throwing her hands out to the sides. “Happy Christmas, I’m pregnant!”

**2014**

~C~

“What?” Crowley responded to Harriet’s announcement.

He’d expected her to want to talk when they got back from the extended holiday away, but no sooner were the Dowlings back, and TJ sent back to school, was Harriet dragged on a tour of Asia with her husband. She’d been avoiding him for a month now, and since he only had two months left on his contract with the Dowlings, he expected that she would keep avoiding him until then.

He didn’t expect her to come knocking on his door with this. 

“I’m pregnant.” She repeated, her voice wavering a little in spite of the tall, proud stance she’d taken.

“Okay.” He said, his brain not fully comprehending what he was being told. His head was slowly nodding like one of those ridiculous dash toys that bobbed in sunlight. “And I’m guessing you’re telling me this because you think it’s mine, or-or that there’s a chance it’s mine?”

Harriet gave a sad laugh. “I’ve only slept with you in the last six months,” She said plaintively. “And I’m four months along.”

“Four months?!” Crowley cried out, pulling on his ponytail. “Jes-fuck, how!? How did you _not know_ for _four months!_ Or are you just telling me now because, what, I won’t talk you into… or out of…. I mean…. What the hell, Harriet?”

“My pill is supposed to take care of my periods!” She snapped back. “I didn’t know because I don’t get them, and I haven’t for a while! I just… felt funny, like… well, like a baby kicking me, I guess, since that’s what it was.” She sighed heavily, moving for the sofa and sitting down on it. Crowley watched her put her face in her hands and rub at her face a moment before lifting her head and meeting his eye. “There was a recall on my pills which I missed, somehow. All placebos. When we had sex, apparently it was at exactly the right time.” She laughed mirthlessly. “We picked the exact week I was ovulating for the first time in forever to have an affair. If that isn’t a punishment….”

“I thought women got ill when they were pregnant? Didn’t… shouldn’t that have tipped you off?”

Harriet shrugged. “I never got sick with TJ, either. I was tired, but hell, it was the holidays with my in-laws. Then all the touring and whatnot, I just… I didn’t realize. Not until I felt the fluttering, and my brain told me that something wasn’t right. So I went, and, well.”

Crowley sighed, looking around his cottage a moment before spotting the bottle of whiskey on the counter from a few nights ago when he was having a particularly lonely night. He went over to it, unscrewed the cap, and took a swig. Grimacing at the burn, he set it down and moved to join Harriet on the sofa.

“So, how long do I have to pack my stuff and run before Thaddeus finds me and kills me?” He asked her.

Harriet frowned. “Thaddeus doesn’t know. And he’s not going to know.” She said firmly, and a bit like Crowley was being an idiot.

“How is _that_ going to work?” He asked. “I’ve… Harriet, you are not a big woman, he’s going to notice.”

“You didn’t notice now,” She pointed out, and Crowley ran his eyes over her form, realizing that she didn’t look any different. Maybe the jumper was a bit looser than normal, but it wasn’t unusual for Harriet to be in leggings and tunics, or in flowing dresses in the winter. When she seemed satisfied he wasn’t going to argue the point, she continued. “He’s only going to be here for another month, maybe two. And then he’s going back to the states for the midterm elections. He’s not expected back until September at the earliest, though maybe not until November.”

“And you don’t think he’s going to want-.”

Harriet snorted. “He’s got someone here named Anne. I found out about her while we were in the US and she sent a very interesting photo to his phone. He’s not even going to notice.”

For a split second, Crowley was filled with overwhelming rage until he realized he was just another Anne. How could he be mad at Thad for doing what he and Harriet did, even if the length of their affairs differed drastically?

“Right.” He said. “So, how are you going to explain another baby?” he asked her.

Harriet sniffled but didn’t cry. Her voice was steady as she spoke. “I’m not.”

Crowley frowned. “But, four months? You can’t after that long, can you?” He asked.

“No, you can’t,” Harriet replied. “I’m going to give it up. I just thought… I thought you should know. Seemed the right thing to do. I mean, we were friends before, weren’t we?”

“Yeah,” he agreed, his voice far away as his mind worked faster than his mouth. “Yeah, we were friends.” He said, looking down at his hands in his lap.

In the quiet, he looked around the cottage, the little place he’d come to be fond of but wasn’t really home. Quite possibly the very space that this little miracle or accident happened. His chest ached for some reason he couldn’t pinpoint, his arms feeling strangely empty.

There had been a time when the thought of having helped bring a child into the world was foreign. He wasn’t going to end up with a woman, or at least a person with a uterus. He was going to end up with one, very specific blonde man. But that dream died almost five years ago now. 

And that’s when his eyes fell on the bottle of whiskey he’d drank from earlier. It had been that one, particular man who had introduced it to him, and when he was feeling fantastically lonely, Crowley shelled out the money for a bottle of it. The smell and the taste would soothe him in a weird way, giving him a sample of the warmth he’d once felt when in that angel’s presence.

That dream, of being with Ezra, of having a life, of just having him _in_ his life was now long dead. He would always be there, in Crowley’s heart, taking up more space than he probably should. But, well, what if the rest of that space was taken over by someone else? Someone of a different type of all-consuming love? A small part of him hoped it would be so powerful it wouldn’t leave room for Ezra Fell, and he was sure a psychiatrist somewhere would have an absolute field day with such musings, but he didn’t care.

It may mean not opening the business as soon as he anticipated. The property in London was bought, but he had counted on most of his savings to go toward renovations and stock. He’d need a proper place to live, and things instead, but he was sure it was worth it.

The longer he stared at that bottle, the more certain he was.

“Give it to me.” He said to the bottle, then turned to Harriet who looked at him in confusion. “The baby, I want it. Don’t give it up, just… give it to me.”

“AJ,” Harriet began to argue but he lifted a hand.

“No, please, just…. I was technically, partly adopted. He didn’t know that, but… there’s a chance. I mean, what if it has my eyes? Eh? A baby with a birth defect isn’t going to be scooped up. And I mean, mine are a one in way more of a million, but there’s a chance that they might be more me than you. And I can’t…. I can’t think that my kid might be out there with a family that might not love them as much as I will. That might not be as accepting as I will be.”

“AJ,” Harriet straightened up. “It’s not just loving them that matters.”

“I have money, Harriet. Not as much as I’d like, and I’m going to have to shuffle things about, but I have enough to cover us at least a while, I think.”

“Child care for when you work?”

“My mum.” He said, “Or maybe Tony would want to be involved. He’s great with me, my siblings, sure he wants grandkids.”

“No sleep.” She said. “You love sleep.”

“I would love my child more.” He countered.

“They just eat, and poop, and puke.” Harriet reminded him. “And… you would be on your own, I can’t… I can’t be involved. I don’t want to be, honestly. I barely wanted TJ.”

“I want them.” He repeated. “I want to be a dad to my child. And I know it will be hard, and I will probably regret this decision more than once for a minute, but Harriet, I can’t let you give them up if I know I can do this.”

Harriet studied him, chewing her lip, and he mouthed a ‘please’ which seemed to set her mind.

“Alright,” She agreed. “When you leave, I’ll… text you or something.” She said as he put her hand over his belly.

He glanced down, then back at her. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah,” She nodded, giving him an uncertain grin. “Kicking.”

“Now?” He asked, eyes widening. “Can… would it be weird if I?”

She leaned back. “You might not feel anything.” She warned.

Crowley slid off the sofa and got down on his knees in front of her. Gently, he put his hand on her abdomen, waiting.

“Hi.” He said, smiling as he felt a nudge on one of his palms. “I’m your dad, but you can’t tell anyone, alright? Not until you’re here. It’ll have to be our secret. But, listen. I’m going to fuck up a lot, alright? Don’t usually do the good things in my life right, but I’m going to try real hard to do right by you.” He swallowed a lump in his throat. “And I can’t wait to meet you. It’s gonna be a while yet, and I won’t be able to talk to you again, or at least often, but just so you know, I’m waiting.”

~A~

“These are not instructions! It’s a brain teaser.” Ezra complained as he knelt on the floor looking between the instructions in his hands and the parts to the crib scattered on the living room floor.

Eliza sat on the couch, frowning at the scene as she rubbed her rather large belly.

“I think you have part D, not B,” She said unsurely, pointing at a nearly identical-looking piece.

“Why aren’t you using the bassinet Deirdre sent you?” Ezra complained, setting down his piece to examine the one Eliza pointed out.

“I’m having a boy! The bassinet is pink and frilly.”

“And he’s a baby, he’ll never know it was used by a girl. And what does it matter, anyway? It’s a place for him to sleep.” He smirked, adding, “If you’re worried about it affecting his masculinity, remember that mum and dad made my room as manly as possible for a little boy, and look how I turned out.”

Eliza picked up a throw pillow and tossed it at his head, inciting a giggle.

“It’s not what I’m getting at and you fucking well know it, you tosser!” Eliza half yelled. “I just… I don’t know, alright! I think I just hate the thing.”

“It’s a free, uncomplicated bed.” Ezra pointed out.

“That he won’t fit in forever, so this would need to be done anyway,” Eliza countered.

“Fair point,” Ezra agreed reluctantly. He went back to trying to figure out the instructions. 

There was a long pause filled only with his quiet grumbling and the movement of pieces and turning of pages. He thought she’d fallen asleep until she said, “You know you don’t have to be here, right?”

“I do.” He nodded, not looking away from the instructions. “But I can’t have you doing this alone, not when you don’t have to. I think it’s brave,” he said, now turning to look at Eliza over his shoulder. “I think you deciding to have a baby now, on your own, when you didn’t have to, is brave. And you’ve always been there for me, whenever you could be. It’s time I do the same in return.”

“Ez, what are you on about? Hardly like I’ve uprooted my whole life for you ever.”

“No,” Ezra replied. “But you were always my biggest supporter next to mum. And many single mothers-to-be have their mothers to lean on. You might not be so lucky. But you do have me.”

Eliza caressed her bump. “I’m sorry you and David didn’t work out because of this, though.”

“Oh, we wouldn’t have worked out anyway,” Ezra replied as he turned back to the instructions. “It’s quite difficult for a relationship to go anywhere when one party is still in love with someone else.”

“You could have let him go,” Eliza said.

Ezra frowned. “I did.” He glanced back at her. 

“Not David.”

“Who do you mean, then?” Ezra asked, much more confused. “He didn’t take Richard’s engagement to Oscar well, and he realized he was still too deep in love with Richard to make it work with anyone at the moment. So, considering the move here, with you, I ended things for both our sakes.”

“I wasn’t talking about him, Ez.”

He knew that, deep down. Ezra knew she meant Anthony, but, well, how terrible would it be to admit that five years later he was still so wholly attached to someone he hadn’t spoken to in all that time? That, while he didn’t haunt every thought or every dream, Ezra still couldn’t see a head of ginger hair without his heart stuttering. 

“I know,” Ezra said quietly. “Now, is that part C over there, or is it E?” 

“I’m not getting up for anything except a snack or to use the loo, figure it out yourself.” She retorted.

“I’m doing this for you!” He said, gesturing at the parts again.

“And my appreciation is coming in the form of curry delivered to our door. So, again, figure it out.”

~C~

He was there before she was, which said a lot about how fast he drove from London to the private hospital outside the village near the Dowling Estate. 

Crowley had been ready for this, a car seat properly installed in the back seat of his vehicle, a pram in the trunk, more nappies in various sizes than he thought he would need to be packed in his overnight bag, along with bottles and formula. He was ready. Scared, nervous, excited, not sure what to expect, but ready.

Telling his parents he got a girl pregnant, all of them, had been about as easy as he would have expected, given that he couldn’t say anything about her. He simply told James and Erica that there had been a girl he’d met when away who got pregnant and couldn’t keep it. And that he had decided to step up and raise his child, so expect a grandbaby around.

Erica had been less than thrilled. James smacked him on the back and called him a man, a real man. Just make sure to get him a copy of the paternity test, and he’d be happy. Which was convenient since Harriet asked for a prenatal one done to prove Crowley was the dad and could have the baby right from birth, no need for her to be involved afterward. 

He waited outside the hospital doors, because how could he explain to the hospital staff that he was the expectant father, but the mother wasn’t quite there yet. He waited for quite a while, or at least it seemed before a singular black vehicle with tinted windows rolled up.

A singular man in black came out and opened the doors to the back of the vehicle.

“Thanks, Lock,” Harriet said as he helped her out of the vehicle.

Crowley rushed to her side, having had a wheelchair ready for when she got there. He and the agent helped Harriet into the chair.

“Surprised you’re here already.” She said with a shaky grin. “It’s one in the morning after all.”

“You said you were in labor, I came,” Crowley said firmly, turning the chair around and wheeling Harriet inside. “What did you say?” He asked, glancing down at her, seeing she was round but still oddly petite. 

“Spa weekend.” She said, breathing a bit uneven. “Only two people beside you that know what’s really happening is Warlock and Carol,” She said, gesturing to the man trailing behind them. “Carol was our driver. She’s parking.”

“Thank you, Lock,” Crowley said to the man over his shoulder, bringing Harriet up to the lift. “We go right up to maternity, right?” He asked.

“Yeah,” She grimaced. 

“Right,” He said, starting to feel like he needed to breathe himself. “How far along do you wager you are? Like, how many centimeters and all that.” Harriet craned her head around and looked at him perplexed. “I read every book, I went to a class on all this stuff. Was… a bit weird, not having a mum with me. But there was this really nice woman there whose partner is overseas, was willing to let me kinda work with her for some things.”

“You… you went to classes?” Harriet asked as the doors to the lift opened and he wheeled her in, Lock following closely.

“Course I went to classes,” Crowley scowled. “Not going to go into all this not knowing anything. You mad?” 

Harriet barked out an incredulous laugh. “I just might be heading there, and they haven’t even given me the drugs yet.”

The lift doors dinged, and Lock went ahead of them, straight to the desk. After a quick, whispered conversation, the nurse nodded and led them to the very end of the hall where Crowley would assume they would have the most privacy.

~A~

“Make him leave and I will strangle you with my IV!” Eliza yelled at the well-meaning nurse as he attempted to escort Ezra out of the delivery room just before lunchtime on August twelfth.

And while a very large part of Ezra desperately wanted to run from the room as quickly as he could, he also understood Eliza’s desperation.

This wasn’t going at all as she’d planned.

For one, their mother wasn’t with them. Cynthia was meant to be with Eliza when she went into labor, but had been feeling quite unwell the days before, and hadn’t been able to make the trip to Tadfield in anticipation of Eliza’s due date. Which, of course, was supposed to the seventeenth. It appeared the newest Fell would have none of that waiting nonsense.

For another, should Cynthia not have been able to make it, Deirdre would have. But her daughter was ill, as was Arthur, and there really wasn’t any way for her to come.

Which meant Ezra, who had planned to wait patiently in the hallway or the waiting room, had to be Eliza’s support. He’d have finger-shaped bruises on his hands, and perhaps a bit of trauma, but he wouldn’t abandon his sister. At least, he hadn’t planned to until she was in the pushing stages of labor, which she’d just gotten to, and then he was going to leave as politely as he could so the trauma wouldn’t increase.

Eliza had other plans.

“Liza,” The nurse said gently, taking his hands off Ezra and going to Eliza’s side. “This part most husbands or partners get squeamish over. I’m pretty sure your brother wouldn’t want to see the rest of this.”

Eliza huffed. “Look, you seem like you’re a nice bloke. And quite frankly, you’re just Ezra’s type, so I’m pretty sure you having your hands on him wasn’t troubling him at all.”

Ezra looked to the ceiling as he turned a very deep shade of red, rivaling that of the laboring mother in the bed. Because, of course, she was absolutely right. The nurse _was_ his type, made worse by the fact that there was an auburn tint to his hair.

“But,” Eliza continued. “He is the only person who’s here with me, and I am very, very scared. So, you’re going to let him stay, and he will stay because he knows what I will do to him if he doesn’t, and then after this is all done if he doesn’t faint, or pass out, our sick all over your shoes, you can ask him out to dinner and I’m positive he will say yes.” She groaned. “Might even let you manhandle him again if you’re lucky. Least he doesn’t have to worry about ending up here.”

The nurse tugged Ezra aside, while a second one came over to Eliza.

“Listen, mate, this is going to be rough. They say childbirth is beautiful, but it’s not.”

“I know,” Ezra assured him. “And I hadn’t planned on being here, but she’s right. She has no one else.”

“Well,” The nurse said. “Brace yourself, then.”

~*~

“This seems a lot less scary somehow,” Eliza said as she laid on the table, looking up at Ezra with a shaky grin.

He stroked her hair through her scrub cap, held her hand with the other. Too many hours pushing, they said, with and she wasn’t progressing. The baby could be in distress, and there may be a danger to her as well, so off to the operating room they went.

“It’s still major surgery, Liza,” He reminded her.

“Yeah, well, you try to push something the size of a melon out of your body for hours with no progress, and tell me what’s less scary.” She replied, her eyes darting to the drape shielding her body from the neck down from view. “You can’t see anything, can you?”

“I’m not going to even humor you a little by pretending to check.” He replied, getting her grin to become more true. “I’m good right here. You just worry about getting through this.”

Eliza nodded slowly, blinking. “You know you’ll be their godfather, right?” She said to him, drowning out the murmur of doctors and nurses. “If something were to ever happen to me-”

“It won’t,” He said firmly.

“Yeah, but if it does, you’re going to take them. I want the baby to go to you.”

Ezra’s eyes began to sting. “Well,” he said, pausing to clear his throat. “It’s a very good thing, then, that nothing will happen to you, and I will just be the favorite uncle.”

“The only uncle.” She reminded.

“Only for now.” He chided. “You’ll meet someone someday, and your little one will have more family than just you, me, and mum. And the one you meet may have a brother or a married sister, and I will still remain the favorite uncle.”

“Alright, here we are,” the Doctor said, and a moment later, after a suctioning sound, there was a sharp, loud cry. Ezra glanced up as Eliza looked away, and a messy, angry-looking little human was lifted up just high enough to be shown to his mother before being cleaned up.

Eliza instantly burst into happy giggles. “Oh, did you see him!” She asked, the nurse from earlier adjusting her gown to allow enough skin for the baby to be placed against her. A moment later, the baby was brought around, cord clipped, and placed on her chest. Eliza let go of Ezra’s hand to properly hold her son against her. “Oh, he’s perfect.” She said over the baby’s continued cries. “Oh my, look at you, little love. Ezra, look at my boy.”

“He’s beautiful,” he assured her. “Absolutely perfect. I’m so proud of you, and him.” Ezra said, kissing Eliza’s hairline quickly before looking at his nephew. “Did you ever pick a name for him? I know you ran the gauntlet for girls' names, but I barely recall you choosing one for a boy.”

“Adam,” She said decisively. “Deirdre was going to use the name if she had a boy, and I sorta loved it. Asked if it would be alright since it seemed Sarah would be a one and only child. So, Adam.” 

“Adam what?” He asked. “I can’t possibly imagine you didn’t think of a middle name.”

“Dad,” She said. “Adam Thomas for dad.”

Ezra actually felt more teared up at that than anything. “Well, then.” He said as he reached a handout and stroked his nephew’s soft, downy hair. “Welcome to the world, Adam Thomas.”

~C~

“One more push,” The nurse coached, and Crowley’s heart pounded as Harriet gave a warrior’s cry and nearly crushed his hand. Seconds later, a cry broke through the room, and Harriet collapsed. 

“It’s a boy!” The Doctor announced, and Crowley burst into a teary laugh, unthinkingly kissing Harriet on the forehead.

“Do you want to cut the cord, dad?” The nurse asked.

He couldn’t respond, so he just nodded, taking the surgical scissors and following the instructions given to him by the medical professionals. With the exception of that moment, he couldn’t peel his eyes away from that small, little wonder. He watched as he was cleaned, and weighed, and measured. Diapered, and wrapped loosely in a blanket.

“Alright, mum,” one of the other nurses said. “Are you ready for him?”

“No,” Harriet said quickly. “No, he’s going to go to AJ.” 

The second nurse frowned, and Crowley caught the sad flicker in the first nurse, Harriet’s nurse’s eyes before she turned to Crowley with a smile. “Shirt off, Mr. Crowley.”

He chuckled, unbuttoning his black oxford with shaky hands. When his chest was exposed, the first nurse gently handed over the baby with a reminder to mind the head. With reverence, Crowley took his son with both hands and placed him against the skin of his chest. 

“Hello, my little one. Remember me?” He said softly, smiling wider as the baby began to calm. “Yeah, I’m dad. I’m dad.” He cooed, glancing at the nurses.

The first was whispering to the second, and the second was glancing at Harriet like she was committing some sort of crime. The first nurse seemed to grow stern, and the second one nodded, leaving the room. 

“Can I see him?” Harriet asked. 

Crowley glanced up at her before looking down at the now calm boy in his arms and nodded. He moved to the bed, turning himself so Harriet could see the baby.

“He’s beautiful.” She said softly.

“He is.” Crowley agreed. “And the lucky bugger doesn’t seem to have my eyes, so he’s already got it a little better than me.” He looked down at his son, bouncing lightly. 

Harriet watched them for a long moment before she asked, “Can I name him?” She met Crowley’s eye, smiling sheepishly. “I never got to name TJ, it was sort’ve already picked out for me. So, I kinda wondered if maybe… maybe I could name him?”

Crowley looked down at his son again, then back at Harriet. “Yeah,” he said without hesitation. “Yeah, you can name him.”

Harriet smiled, looking at the baby again.

“Do you want to hold him?” Crowley asked, and she shook her head. “You’re sure?” Harriet nodded, and he let it go.

~*~

He’d taken baby Crowley out for a stroll around the hospital’s maternity wing. Harriet had asked for some time to herself, probably to shower in that tiny little bathroom as best one can, and Crowley wanted to give her all the space she needed.

It was beginning to feel weird, anyway. Like a strange sort of intimacy that wasn’t really there but filled the room. On the outside, they could have looked like any couple, really. Crowley slept on a pull-out chair in Harriet’s room, the baby in the hospital bassinet nearby. They didn’t ignore each other, and there were smiles and chuckles over the baby like there was with any newborn and new parents. But they never touched, Harriet never held the baby or helped with him, and only one nurse was ever allowed in.

“You getting a bit nibbly, there, little one?” Crowley said to his son as he began to fuss. “Yeah, I think you’re getting a bit hungry. Let’s head back to the room for a nice bottle, huh? Nice bottle and then maybe you can spit up a bit in daddy’s hair again? Should probably cut it all off, shouldn’t I? Didn’t think of that, no I didn’t.” He continued his nonsensical musings as he returned to the room.

He went to the bag he had brought up from the car the night before and grabbed one of the pre-made bottles purchased from the chemist in anticipation of the lack of space in the hospital room. He set the baby down in the bassinet to have two hands-free to replace the screw-cap with the nipple, and then set it on the tray table for the bed before he scooped the baby back up.

He did a double-take when he noticed the paper there. A registration form for the baby’s birth, sitting neatly in the middle with a lot of it left blank.

Frowning, Crowley picked up his son and then sat on the bed, glancing at the closed bathroom door, and hoping Harriet wouldn’t mind. First, he got himself settled with the baby, making sure the ravenous little man was sucking away before he picked up the form and looked it over.

The first thing he noticed was Harriet lied on the form. His son would forever be linked to a Jane Harriet Smith as his mother. It couldn’t be legal, but what could he possibly say? His name had been filled in full and proper, the details of his address left blank, but his phone number wasn’t. His son’s date and time of birth were recorded, and she’d signed the parts she would have needed to with J.H. Smith.

Crowley, for just a moment, went to call for her when he sensed someone in the doorway. He looked up to see Harriet’s nurse looking at him with a sympathetic smile.

“She left.” He realized. “While I was out with the baby, she left.”

The nurse nodded. “She and I, we had it arranged. I was being paid a bit overtime to make sure I was in charge of her care, and as soon as she was able to leave, she wanted to make sure she could.” The nurse shrugged. “You just made it a bit easier for her, Mr. Crowley.”

“AJ’s fine,” he said, looking down at his son, then back at the paper. “Warlock?” He asked incredulously. He looked down at the baby, “She named you Warlock.”

“It was the name of the agent who came in with her. I think it was probably his last name, but,” The nurse shrugged again. “Might not be so bad.”

“Warlock Crowley sounds like I’m raising the bloody Antichrist.” He said, and the nurse laughed.

“Well, she didn’t give him a middle name, maybe you could pick one you like, and call him that.”

“No, he… I was named after my biological dad. I got to have a piece of him when I didn’t get to know him. This is a little bit of her, in her own way, I can’t change that.”

“You could call him Lock for short.”

“Now that’s not terrible.” Crowley agreed, smirking before looking down at his boy. “Still, needs a bit of good in there, doesn’t it? Balance out the evil-sounding-ness of it all. Need the name of an angel, I think. Huh? What do say, Warlock Ezra Crowley?”

“Ezra?” The nurse repeated, confused. “I don’t think there were any angels called Ezra. Maybe Aziraphale, but I can’t be sure.”

“No, Ezra’s my own, personal angel,” Crowley said, looking up at the nurse shyly. “One person in my life who made things better. I’d like to think he’d be proud, my son having his name.”

“I’m sorry,” The nurse said, “he sounds like he meant a lot to you.” 

“Yeah,” Crowley said, nodding. When Warlock seemed finished, he got up, getting the baby blanket off the chair, and putting it over his shoulder. Moving his hair off to the other side before putting Warlock upon his shoulder, he looked at the nurse. “She really left already, without a goodbye?” He asked as he began to burp the baby.

“Afraid so,” the nurse replied. “But we can’t release Warlock until tomorrow, so you’re obviously welcome to stay. We’ll give you any help you need.”

Crowley nodded, “thanks.” He said, smiling at the nurse before she turned and left. “Just you and me, Lock.” He said to the baby, placing an absent kiss on his head. “Just you and me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We go back to 2019 for 2 chapters.  
> Until then.
> 
> Chapter title from "Everybody" by Ingrid Michaelson


	27. You Are the Only Chance I'll Take

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY GOOD OMENS 30th! Many of you were looking forward to this one...

**2019**

“You were supposed to ask him to move in with you,” Tony said as he hugged Crowley, the boys still jumping around and hollering in excitement at the news that they would be brothers.

“I was getting there,” Crowley grumbled as he hugged his dad. “I was, you know, making my way to that point when he sorta just asked.”

It had shut his brain down for a moment because once again Ezra had beaten him to the punch of a big thing. After Ezra had said “I love you” first, Crowley was sure he’d be the one to bring up marriage. It was something he wanted, something he thought he could have, especially from the moment Ezra said taking care of Warlock was no different than Adam, but Crowley hadn’t dared broach the subject just yet. Asking Ezra to share a home with him had been terrifying enough, given how new everything still was.

But Ezra had had a point. They’d known each other for twenty years, and even a decade apart hadn’t changed anything for either of them. Why waste any more time because it wasn’t the done thing? Besides, there were people in the world who got married after only a few weeks together, they could do this.

Tony let go of Crowley, then Erica and he changed places. Crowley hugged his mum, who seemed genuinely happy for him.

“You’ll do better than me,” She told him quietly. “You love that man to death, already off to a better start.”

“Can’t say I ever aspired to have a marriage like yours and James,” Crowley replied, stepping back and looking at her.

Erica gave a sad smile. “I left him, Anthony.”

His eyebrows shot up. “You what?”

“I left him last week. It was time.”

“It was… and you waited until now? What? Where are you? Are you living with dad?”

“No, I’m… I’m not living with him. Your father - James - he moved out. He had a place near work for his dalliances, so that’s where he went.” Erica said in a too-casual way.

Crowley frowned. “Just like that? He walked out?” 

Erica opened her mouth then darted her glance to Tony and Ezra. “We’ll talk later.” She said, taking a step back from Crowley. “So, will it be the Fell-Crowleys or the Crowley-Fells? Or are you two not taking each other’s names?”

Crowley looked to Ezra who frowned, who then looked to the boys who seemed utterly baffled by the prospect of a different name.

“I suppose we haven’t discussed that bit,” Ezra replied. “But a wedding would be a ways off, I think. Plenty of time to decide that.”

“Right,” Crowley agreed, clapping his hands together. “First, we need to figure out the whole single-household thing.”

“Are we still sharing a room?” Warlock asked. 

“Do you… want to?” Crowley asked, looking at Ezra for some guidance. He simply turned to Adam. When neither boy said anything, Crowley continued. “There’s an extra room in the house upstairs. We can make Adam his own room. I know you two love each other, and love spending time together, but there might be some moments where you just want some space from one another.”

“Maybe.” Adam shrugged. 

“Maybe we can get bunk beds.” Warlock said, his eyes growing wide.

“Wicked.” Adam agreed. 

“We’ll see,” Crowley said in a way of saying no. “But for now, we’ll probably look into giving Adam his own room. Move his stuff over first, and make our way through the rest of the flat.”

“Where will papa sleep?” Warlock asked, and not a single adult made a sound.

Crowley, frankly, didn’t know what silenced him more: Warlock casually calling Ezra papa for the first time within his hearing, or the innocence of thinking Ezra didn’t stay with him.

“Couples, when they’re married or… or just together, well,” Ezra began, pausing when Adam put a hand on Warlock’s shoulder and looked at him quite seriously.

“Couples who plan to get married sleep in the same bed. I know, my mum and her boyfriends slept in the same bed a lot.” He said in that way five-year-olds always tended to sound when they thought themselves quite wise and much more grown than they were.

Warlock nodded in understanding as if he had known all along and was simply asking to see if anyone else knew the answer. Then he frowned. “We should make sure there’s room for your toys in my room. Just in case.” He said with a decisive chin tilt. 

Adam’s eyes widened, “We should.”

“No running,” Crowley warned as it looked like the two were about to take off at a sprint. They slowly made their way to the stairs, and perhaps climbed them faster than they should, but they weren’t technically running.

Crowley looked at Ezra and shook his head in exasperation. “See what you’re signing up for? Lifetime of that, with me.”

“I looked forward to it.” Ezra grinned, moving to stand with Crowley.

“Well, we’ll leave you to unpack your cases and start planning,” Erica said, touching Tony’s arm as she grinned. “Congratulations, again, you two. I’m very happy for you both.”

“Yes, keep us up to date as to when the wedding is. And where.” Tony said with a grin. “Do you want me to tell your brothers and sister, or are you going to want to tell them yourself?”

Crowley started to stammer when Ezra said, “If I may.” When the adults turned toward him. “Perhaps we can arrange something where I can meet them. I don’t hope to have closeness with Anthony’s siblings as he once had to my own, but I would like to meet them.”

“Maybe we can have a family dinner at the house, then. Maybe some night when the boys can be looked after?”

“It would be your kids, Ton, I can watch the boys.” Erica offered.

“I said, family.” Tony reminded her gently.

“And I’m not.” She responded. “I’m Anthony’s mother, that doesn’t make me family to your kids.”

“We’ll figure something out,” Crowley offered the out for them both. “Just let us know. Weekends are always easier.”

“We’ll be in touch,” Tony said, clapping Anthony on the arm, then Ezra, then he and Erica left. 

With his parents gone, and the boys upstairs, talking excitedly enough that there was a murmur, Crowley should have been relaxed. Instead, he began to pace in agitation. He pulled at his hair, his jaw tensing, and he only paused when he saw the worry in Ezra’s face.

“What is it?” Ezra asked gently.

Crowley opened his mouth, then huffed and turned away.

“Anthony.” Ezra insisted.

“What if you don’t like them?” Crowley spat out, whirling back around, trying to get Ezra to understand with just a look how terrified the idea made him. 

Ezra frowned. “What if… _I_ don’t like them?” He repeated.

“Yes!” Crowley said, gesturing wide. “What if you meet them and you hate them?”

Ezra looked around the room. “Forgive me, darling, but I think… it’s supposed to be the other way around. What if they don’t like me?”

“Who doesn’t like you, you’re a bloody angel, I named my son after you, for fuck sakes. What if you don’t like them? I adored Liza, she was as much my sister as she was yours for the time we were… Well, not _together_ together, but you know what I mean. What if you don’t care for them?”

“Anthony,” Ezra said as he closed the distance between them, taking Crowley’s face in his hands. “Darling, I love you. I plan to marry you as soon as would be reasonable. I will love your family because they are yours. And if I only love them because you do, then that will have to do. But from what snippets I have heard, I will adore them. Plus, getting to know them will allow me to be an uncle once more. It’s an experience, I promise you.”

Crowley smirked. “Spoiling Crissy’s little one and then sending it back to her?”

“Admittedly, I had a lot less of that experience.” Ezra conceded. “But I look forward to experiencing it with you.”

Crowley shook his head before lifting his hands to cradle Ezra’s wrists. “I can’t believe I get to marry you.”

“I feel the same way,” Ezra said, kissing Anthony briefly. “Now, we should unpack, and then maybe we can begin to figure out this living arrangement of ours.”

~A~

“Did you let your license expire?” Anthony asked once they were on the road, heading to the school, boys quiet in the backseat for once. Probably still mostly asleep. It was still early, after all. 

Ezra had pointed out it was good practice for all of them to get back into the swing of it all, getting up early as the boys would need to the following week to be ready for school. At least, that’s what he told them and himself when Anthony woke them up so they could go with them when Anthony brought Ezra to work.

“No,” Ezra replied, looking out the window at the familiar scenery of the city. “I simply truly dislike driving.” He turned to Anthony. “I could have taken the bus, love.”

“I’m not letting you take the bus, not when I could bring you to work.”

“You don’t have to.”

“It’s what a good husband would do, isn’t it?” Anthony countered.

Ezra huffed. “If it were raining, perhaps, I could see it. As it stands, it is not. And, I suppose, I could have asked Newton if he wouldn’t mind swinging by and picking me up.”

“How is Newt, anyway?” Anthony asked, frowning a touch. “I haven’t heard much of him since the boys’ birthday.”

“I believe he took some time to see his mother in Surrey over the last few weeks,” Ezra replied. “I suppose it’s finally starting to sink in that Anathema is moving on.”

Anthony’s head moved side to side, “I don’t think she is,” he said slowly, uncertain. “I think Eric and her are just a thing, a sort’ve fling that’s a bit more than that.”

“But from Newton’s perspective? The beautiful, charismatic person he finds attractive is now with an equally attractive partner? I’d say he sees her as completely out of his reach.”

A few seconds went by in silence. “Is that how you felt?” Anthony asked. “Those times when I was with someone and you weren’t?” Because that’s how it was for me when you were with Oscar.”

“It was,” Ezra conceded. “I still can’t think of Fredrick Martin without wanting to hit something.”

Crowley laughed, “You hit him! Wasn’t that good enough?”

“Papa hit someone?” Warlock asked from the back, startling the grown-ups, both seeming to have forgotten they were back there.

“He had a time out with police,” Adam reminded Warlock. “Wouldn’t say why. Maybe that was it?”

“No,” Warlock said with certainty. “You don’t go to jail for time out because you hit someone.”

“Still, papa _hit_ someone. Do you think he slapped him or was it a _pow_?”

“A punch, square in the nose,” Anthony answered, glancing at the boys in the rearview mirror as they came to a red light. “Broke the bloke’s nose, blood everywhere.”

“Awesome!” Adam said as Warlock declared, “that’s so cool.”

Ezra rolled his eyes. “It was violent, and it solved nothing.” He said firmly.

“It shut Freddie up,” Anthony added with a smirk.

“You’re not helping, dear.”

“Dad’s in trouble,” Adam whispered loudly, Warlock humming in agreement.

“What do you mean, I’m in trouble?” Anthony asked as the light changed, and they started going again.

“Papa only calls you ‘dear’ when you’re in trouble.” Warlock pointed out.

“I’m not sure what if I should be happy they’re jumping right in with the whole dad and papa thing, or worried that they noticed that before I did,” Anthony grumbled.

“In fairness, I have called you ‘dear’ longer than I have any other sort of endearment.” Ezra reminded him. 

“Do you only call me dear when I’m in trouble?” he asked as they pulled into the school’s virtually empty drop off. 

“No, dear,” Ezra replied with a smirk as Anthony parked the car. “Unlike a regular school day, I won’t be out until four.”

“Right,” Anthony nodded, turning his head toward Ezra as Ezra unbuckled his seatbelt. “Don’t forget to invite Newton to the thing Saturday.”

“I won’t,” Ezra said as he leaned over to kiss Anthony. “Have a good day, my love.”

Anthony smirked, “You, too.” He added with another quick kiss.

Ezra looked into the back as he opened the Bentley door. “Be good for dad, you two, and I’ll see you after work.”

“By papa!” They chorused. “Love you.”

“Love you, boys.” He said as he closed the door, moving around the back of the Bentley and waving to them again as he headed up to the school.

He stopped short when he noticed Newton, just a few feet away, staring at him with wide eyes and high brows. 

“Good morning,” Ezra greeted him.

“Morning,” Newton said, glancing back at the Bentley. “Things are good, then?”

“They are, quite good, actually. Which reminds me. Anthony and I are throwing a gathering on Saturday, and I want you to be there if you could.”

“Yeah, sure,” Newton replied as they headed inside the building. “I’ll be there.”

~*~

“I don’t know, sunshine,” Gabriel winced as Ezra made the same request of him when he came by the school to have lunch with Ezra.

“Please, Gabriel, it’s quite important to me.” He said, putting his hand over Gabriel’s. “I have some wonderful news I want to share.”

“So tell me now, that way I don’t have to endure a gathering on Saturday.” He asked, turning his hands and clasping Ezra’s.

Slowly, Ezra pulled away. He chewed his lip, wondering if maybe ripping off the band-aid here would be better than potentially causing a scene on Saturday in front of everyone. He knew Gabriel would never be as understanding as David had been regarding Richard with Oscar, but he hoped that perhaps his friend of a decade could set aside some of his hurt feelings and be happy for him. Ezra knew the chances were rather low.

“Alright,” Ezra steeled himself, setting his fork down in the takeaway salad dish, and dotting his mouth with a paper napkin. He looked around the park they were in, most of the people a few tables away talking among themselves and not paying any mind to them. And then, because he couldn’t even think it without smiling a little, grinned as he said, “Anthony and I are getting married.”

Gabriel looked at him with narrowed eyes before he began to laugh. “That’s a good one,” he said. “You nearly had me.”

“I’m quite serious,” Ezra said when Gabriel continued laughing.

“Well, you can’t be.” He retorted as he started to come down from it. “It’s insane!”

“What is insane about two people who love each other deciding to spend their lives together?” Ezra countered, unsure if he should be angry or confused.

“Because he doesn’t love you!” Gabriel snapped, causing a couple people to look at them a moment. “And you don’t love him,” Gabriel said, quieter but just as firm. 

“What would have _ever_ given you that impression?” Ezra asked. “What in this world would have ever made you think I didn’t love him?”

Gabriel held his eyes meaningfully. When Ezra didn’t acknowledge it, he said, “us.” 

“What ‘us’, Gabriel? There was never an ‘us’.”

“There was, sunshine,” He said gently, lovingly, and it made Ezra experience the guilt he felt a little over four years ago. 

And he had a feeling that was what Gabriel might have been going for.

“I had asked, very kindly, that we not address that night again.” He said with all the patience he could muster.

“I think we need to,” Gabriel said with confidence. “I think we need to address why it happened.”

“We truly don’t, I assure you.”

“We do,” Gabriel said with a nod. “Especially if you’re about to dive headlong into this-this mistake with Anthony Crowley.”

“Gabriel-”

“I love you.” He said, reaching for Ezra’s hands on the table and catching one before Ezra could pull it away. “I’ve loved you this whole time, and I think you need to know that before you commit to this whole thing with Crowley.”

Ezra snatched his hand back. “Don’t think I haven’t known all these years, Gabriel, I have.” He said through his teeth. “I have known, and I have looked at you, long and hard, on more than one occasion. And never once, not even _that_ night, have I seen you as more than a friend.”

“You did, then, I know it,” Gabriel said with a gentle sort of certainty that may have made a lesser man question himself.

“I did not,” Ezra replied firmly. “As a matter of fact, I might as well say that if you were just a moment later, that night might have never happened.” He laughed mirthlessly. “No, actually, I can guarantee that, had you been a moment longer, that night would never have happened.”

“Ezra,” Gabriel tried to soothe. “You can’t know that.”

“Oh, but I do.” He met Gabriel’s gaze dead on. “A few precious seconds, maybe no more than a minute, and I would have never answered the door.”

“What could have possibly changed that night?” Gabriel asked his tone something of a wistful romantic sort. 

Ezra smirked, “Anthony.” He confessed. “He might have changed everything.”

“How?” Gabriel scoffed. “He wasn’t there. He was long gone by then.”

Ezra continued to hold Gabriel’s eye as he pursed his lips, thinking about how much he wanted to say since he’d yet to tell Anthony the same story. “I almost called him,” Ezra replied. “But then you knocked.”

“And you think he would have come to you if you _had_ called? He destroyed you.” Gabriel bit out. “He left you as nothing more than a shell for weeks. He wasn’t there for any of the bad things, and I was. I was right there. I have been at your side since we met, and you… I did so many things for you!”

“And I never asked for any of it,” Ezra said quietly. “Never once. I never asked you to move to Tadfield, or stay in England at all, for that matter. I never asked you to leave someone, nor did I ask you to wait for me. I have, in fact, done the opposite many times over.” 

“But you didn’t mean it,” Gabriel replied tenderly. “Because, really, what would you do if I had listened?”

Ezra shrugged. “Continue living as I had, I imagine. Not to be cruel, but I’d have gotten on perfectly fine without you.”

“I’m your best friend!” Gabriel protested.

“No.” Ezra shook his head. “No, you are my good friend and a dear friend. But you were never my best friend. That has always been Anthony, and when it was not, it was Eliza. I would even go as far as to say Oscar was closer to such a title than you were.” He said, glancing around and seeing some people beginning to pay attention to them. He glanced at his watch, then stood up. “I must return, I have a lot of work to do.”

“Sunshine,” Gabriel said, sounding almost apologetic.

Ezra lifted a hand, staying whatever he wanted to say. “I’m sorry you thought, somehow, that there was ever going to be a chance for us. I swear to you, I have never meant to cause you pain, nor did I ever intend to lead you on. Perhaps if Anthony and I had never crossed paths again, in the years to come, something may have happened, but I sincerely doubt it.”

Gabriel flinched but didn’t protest.

“And, a small bit of wisdom for you to reflect on: If you love me, truly love me, then you would be happy for me. Because regardless of what happened in the past, or your view on things, Anthony and I love each other, he makes me happy, and I want to spend my life with him. If you can’t accept that, then perhaps this is where _we_ part ways.” Ezra stepped away from the table, stopping at Gabriel’s shoulder, putting a hand on it. “If this is goodbye, then allow me to say this: it’s been lovely knowing you. May we meet again on a better occasion.” 

He continued on back toward the school, and it only sunk in what happened when he was back in his classroom.

~C~

“Holy shit, are you serious?” Anathema asked, leaning partway across the outdoor table toward Crowley.

“Yeah,” He replied, barely able to get his smile under control. “We’re having a gathering Saturday to announce it.”

“You said you were thinking of asking him to move in! Not that!” 

“He asked me.” Crowley shrugged casually like it was no big deal when the reality was he still wasn’t over it. “But listen, there’s a reason I’m telling you now and not waiting ‘til then. I need a favor.”

“I’ll watch the hellions,” Anathema smirked. “Have another date night planner?” 

“No,” Crowley squirmed. “He’s meeting my real family.”

“Oh,” Anathema’s eyebrows shot up. “Wow, that’s… a really big deal for you.” 

“Yeah,” He said, watching the boys run through the sprinkler, chasing each other with water pistols. “And… I’m worried it won’t go well. He, uh… he ended up telling Gabriel the other day at lunch.”

“I can only imagine how spectacularly that went down.” She said sympathetically.

Crowley groaned, “Yeah,” He agreed, turning back to Anathema. “He says he’s alright, but I think it’s bothering him more than he’s letting on.”

“Well there was a history,” Anathema said carefully.

Crowley rolled his eyes, leaning across the table. “They fucked, once.” He said quietly, glancing at the boys and making sure they were still very much not paying attention.

“Exactly,” Anathema replied. “But do you think Ezra is the sort of bloke who would just sleep with a friend if there wasn’t _something_ there?”

“I know he’s the type of man who doesn’t take it lightly.” Crowley countered. “And I’m not stupid, I know he found Gabriel attractive, I know he probably considered him from time to time, even if he won’t say.”

“So I’m sure you can see why he might be bothered by the fact that his friend of ten years…. Well, I don’t know what happened, but I’m sure it’s likely a case where they aren’t speaking.”

“Been there,” Crowley grumbled.

“Exactly.” 

“Not the same.” 

“No, maybe not exactly,” Anathema said with a smirk. “I do know that Ezra wasn’t in love with Gabriel ever. Whereas you two….”

“If I were to tell me of ten years ago - hell, of _five_ years ago - that I would end up engaged to Ezra Fell, I’d have never believed me. Five years ago me probably would have just told this me to mess off and hold Warlock so I could shower. Ten years ago me? Would have never believed it, not ever. Couldn’t even dream of it.”

There was a small lull in the conversation when Anathema said, “I have something I need to tell you.” When Crowley shot his gaze back in her direction, she quickly added, “Nothing bad. Just… I’ve been holding it in for months, and now that all this has happened….”

“What is it?” Crowley asked suspiciously.

Anathema’s grin turned sad. “I almost set you two up. I was going to, actually.”

Crowley frowned. “Me and Ezra?”

Anathema nodded. “I always thought Ezra was just lonely underneath all his smiles, and ‘dears’, and being perfectly content with books and the rest of us on occasion. And then there was you, who was moving here and only really knew Newt and me, and I thought… I could see those two getting along.”

Crowley’s brow furrowed deeper. “You said almost. Why didn’t you?”

Anathema grew sadder. “Eliza.” She said softly, glancing in the direction of the boys who really paid them no attention whatsoever. “I told her I knew a guy who Ezra might be good with. She asked to see your picture. She… squealed. Well, first she looked like she’d seen a ghost and then was just over the moon with the idea. But she asked if I would wait until she got back from her trip with Gavin because she wanted to be there when you met. I guess what she meant was she wanted to be there when you two saw each other again.”

Crowley blinked, his lips curling in a smile that felt heavy with his heartache. “She would have been insufferable.” He said lovingly. 

“She would have been,” Anathema agreed. “She never even hinted that you two knew each other, though. I never said your real name was Anthony, and she never hinted that she knew it.”

“Oh, she wouldn’t have. It must have been eating at her not to say anything whenever she’d seen Ezra.”

Anathema chuckled, “Enough that she was quite oblivious to Gavin’s plans.”

Crowley smiled. “What was he like? I mean, Ezra’s told me a bit, and I hear a few snippets from Adam here and there, but from someone from the outside, what was he like?” 

Anathema considered it. “Nice.” She said. “He was just a really friendly guy. I’d say he was like an extroverted, up to date Ezra, but straight and way more handsome.”

“Oi, that’s my husband you’re talking about.” Crowley teased.

“Not yet he’s not.”

“Might as well be,” Crowley grumbled. “So, Friday night, you can watch those two for us while we go to Tony’s? Mum’s not free.”

“Yes, I will watch them.” Anathema conceded. “Would you mind terribly if I asked Newt to join me?”

“Newt?” Crowley asked. “Not Eric?”

“Newt.” She said firmly. “Is that a yes or no?”

“Yeah, sure, just… you know, no….”

“I’m not an idiot.” She grumbled, and he smirked. Best not to poke at that one.

~A~

“I haven’t been back here since mum passed,” Ezra said as he looked out the window while they passed through their hometown.

“Is it… are you alright?” Anthony asked gently. 

“Oh, perfectly well, darling,” He said, looking over at Anthony and smiling. “It just… given my fallout earlier in the week with Gabriel….”

“It happened here.” Anthony pieced it together, and Ezra nodded while humming the acknowledgment. “Huh,” Anthony said.

“Should I be worried you’re suddenly going to find yourself in a bad mood?” Ezra asked, putting his hand on Anthony’s thigh, perhaps a bit higher than was proper.

Anthony smirked. “I was gonna say no, but if I say yes, will that hand move higher?”

“We’re going to see your family, you fiend.” Ezra retorted, making Anthony chuckle. He couldn’t help but smile, feeling his heart filled with more love than he thought it should contain. “I’m glad it doesn’t put you off.”

“Just tell me one thing,” Anthony said as he made a turn down a road Ezra didn’t recognize. “Was it in your childhood bedroom?”

Ezra frowned. “Goodness, no.” He said firmly.

“Then I don’t care where it happened.”

“Would you have if I had said yes?”

“Well, no, probably not. I just don’t want my fantasies of what could have been spoiled by knowledge that he-”

“Fantasies of what _could_ have been?” Ezra asked in disbelief. “Am I not enough as I am?”

“You are far better than any fantasy, angel,” Anthony assured, affectionately. “Even fantasies about you.”

Placated for the moment, Ezra let it go, moving his hand off Anthony’s thigh as he sensed they were nearing their destination.

Sure enough, within a minute, Anthony was pulling into a driveway deeper in the part of town where he had once lived himself. Ezra took in the house from the outside, noting it was far grander than the one he had lived in, but not so large as the Crowley home. It also felt warmer, too, closer to how it felt for Ezra coming home. A family lived there, one that loved each other, he could sense it. 

Anthony parked behind a simple, small car without a worry about blocking someone in, and then turned to Ezra.

“We have time to run.” He said, hand going to the door handle.

“We do not,” Ezra said firmly. “We’re going to become a family, it’s probably a good idea to meet yours. Better now than closer to the wedding, let them air their grievances with me with plenty of time to spare.”

“Grievances,” Anthony grumbled as he opened the door, and Ezra did the same on his side. He reached behind to the back and plucked up the bottle of wine he’d purchased for the occasion. Gift in hand, he allowed Anthony to take his other and walk him up to the front door.

Ezra frowned when Anthony rang the doorbell. When he looked at him, Anthony shrugged.

“I didn’t grow up here.” He said. “And I don’t know if Tony’s wife is going to be around.”

“His _wife_?” Ezra asked, recalling very clearly that Erica had declined dinner.

Before an explanation could be given, the door was flung open, and Ezra damn near dropped the bottle of wine.

A second, younger Anthony stood before him, dressed similarly, with red hair pulled back in a bun low on his head, and bright blue eyes.

The younger man looked from him to Anthony, looked over the latter, and rolled his eyes. “Stop copying my style,” he said, his voice only a touch deeper than Anthony’s own.

“Born first, means it’s my style you’re copying.” Anthony retorted as he let go of Ezra’s hand. When the younger man smirked, Anthony stepped forward and hugged him tightly. After a few seconds, he stepped back. “Ezra, this is Neil. Neil, my partner Ezra.”

“How are you?” Neil asked, offering his hand for Ezra to shake.

“Well, thank you. It’s a pleasure.” Ezra replied, automatically and with a smile, but still meaning it.

“Likewise,” Neil responded before turning back to Anthony, throwing a thumb over his shoulder. “Everyone else is here, and dad says dinner will be ready soon.”

“Great,’ Anthony said, taking Ezra’s hand again and bringing him inside.

Within the home, all that warmth Ezra sensed was magnified. It made his heartache, momentarily wistful at the way it felt more like a house filled with children still, and not one where they were all grown, and most moved on. Ezra looked around as he and Anthony toed off their shoes, noting family photos strewn about. Some, he noted, even had Anthony in them, though he didn’t get to examine them long.

“AJ’s here,” Neil announced as he led them into the kitchen and dining area.

“Did he bring his imaginary boyfriend with him,” A much deeper male voice said, followed quickly by Tony giving a warning that made Ezra grin before they rounded the corner and entered the space more fully.

At the table was clearly the youngest, and he looked nothing like his brothers. He grinned a sly grin, his dark hair long and lank against his head. “So you aren’t imaginary.” He said when he spotted Ezra. 

“Very much real,” Ezra said with an awkward chuckle.

“Don’t mind Terry,” Tony said as he set down the wooden spoon he’d been using in a pot. “He likes to irritate his siblings, all of them.”

“I do recall what that can be like,” Ezra said, then handed Tony the bottle. “I know you said not to bring anything, but I couldn’t help it.”

“It’ll go well with dinner,” Tony said, grinning. “Only pasta, afraid I can’t cook worth a damn.”

“Family trait,” Terry pipped up, earning a gentle smack from Neil.

“Is he here yet?” A feminine voice said, coming down the stairs and pausing as she entered the kitchen. “Oh, he is. And he does have a boyfriend.”

“I’m getting the sense you don’t tend to introduce partners to your family,” Ezra commented, smirking at Anthony.

“Never,” Christine said, stepping forward. “Please, come, sit. You might as well be comfortable while we interrogate you.”

“Play nice,” Tony warned as Christine led Ezra to the table. “AJ’s got news, and if you drive Ezra off before he can say it, I’ll be cross.”

“Might as well start with that one,” Anthony said as his phone rang. He pulled it out of his pocket and frowned. “Anathema, wha- Adam? How did you… No, I don’t know where your dog is. I don’t know if papa knows, did you ask Lock if he’d seen it?”

“Who’s Adam?” Terry asked, glancing at the others to see if they knew.

“My son,” Ezra replied. It was a strange sort of right to say it out loud to someone who hadn’t known him prior. It sent a strange sort of rush through him that nearly made him shiver.

“Right, hold on,” Anthony said, handing Ezra the phone. 

“Hello, dear, what’s the trouble?” Ezra said to Adam.

“I can’t find Dog.” He grumbled. “Lock doesn’t know where it went, but we thought it was with Duck, but it’s not, because we found Duck, and Dog wasn’t with him.”

“I’m about to lose my mind, Ezra!” Anathema yelled in the background, and Warlock laughed.

“Did you check under your bed?” Ezra asked.

“Yes.”

“Lock’s bed?”

“Yes.”

“Did you check under the blankets on both beds?”

“Yes,” Adam said, growing more impatient.

“Did you check mine and dad’s room?” He asked, which resulted in quiet. There was a sound of rushing movement. “Don’t run, walk.” He said firmly, looking up at Anthony and rolling his eyes in tandem with his partner.

There was a rustling, and then, “found him! He was under the bed.”

“See, you must have dropped him when you and Lock went in to get Dad up this morning. Now, be good for Anathema, and make sure to thank her for letting you use her phone.”

“I will. Love you, papa.” Adam replied.

“Love you, too, dear. Goodnight.” He said, ringing off and handing the phone back to Anthony.

“Under the bed?” Anthony asked as he pocketed his phone, pulling out the seat next to Ezra and turning it to face him as he sat.

“It would seem so.” Ezra sighed, then frowned. “Seems a bit early for them to worry about Duck and Dog.”

“Anathema likes to do a movie before bed, Lock always had Duck with him, probably just picking up on the habit, is all,” Anthony said, turning away and then looking surprised. “What?” He asked, and Ezra then noted the younger siblings watching them with interest.

“You guys haven’t just started dating, have you?” Christine asked.

“Oh, right,” Anthony said, ignoring Tony’s chuckle. “Should probably start explaining, shouldn’t I? We’re getting married.” He said with a grin, and Ezra pinched the bridge of his nose in the split second before the other three began to try and talk over each other.

~C~

“That went well,” Crowley said a few hours later as they began to make their way down Tony’s street.

“Surprisingly,” Ezra agreed, looking out the window. “Though for a while, I thought Chrissy would never like me.”

Crowley cringed because he had begun to worry about that, too.

Neil and Terry were too young to really know or remember what Crowley had been like when they’d all first met, but Chrissy was nearly an adult and had already been extra tentative to Crowley after learning she wasn’t the eldest after all. She’d wanted to know everything about him, and in that time, had heard about Ezra. And at the time, Ezra and he had started their decade long absence from one another. It didn’t mean Crowley had never talked about him, of course, but his heartache translated to Chrissy as something Ezra was wholly responsible for.

While Terry and Neil were both warm and welcoming to Ezra, trying to ask questions to get to know him in general (what do you do? What’s your son like? What do you do for fun?), Chrissy had drilled him on his intentions, how he could hurt her brother and did he understand what would happen if Ezra had ever hurt Crowley again?

She eventually calmed down, but Crowley sensed she would never be entirely convinced that things were well.

“Can you honestly tell me that, if we had met up again before Eliza passed, that she wouldn’t have been a bit of the same?” Crowley asked because despite what Anathema said, he still was sure Eliza would force him into a dark corner or alleyway and ensure he knew the consequences of any further stupidity.

Ezra pursed his lips, tilted his head. “Maybe not to the same extent.” He conceded. “She knew what happened, she understood it was both of us at play, and she also had the benefit of knowing you from that time. Chrissy doesn’t, she had no idea who I was before, or even who I am now. I don’t begrudge her her protectiveness of you. It’s quite charming, really,” Ezra grinned a moment, turning it briefly in Crowley’s direction for him to glimpse. “I have a confession.”

“Oh?” Crowley asked, genuinely intrigued as they came to a red light.

“I have seen Neil before.” Ezra actually blushed, which only got Crowley’s attention more. “When mum first fell ill, it was only a few years after our spat. I had seen him across the hospital cafeteria, and for a moment, I thought he was you.”

“What made you know it wasn’t?” Crowley asked, turning his attention back to the road just as the light changed back to green.

“I didn’t, at first. I called for you, and your father had turned around, looking about. Neil, he started looking too, and, well, the eyes were a giveaway.”

“Yeah,” Crowley said, “it was a bit weird when we met. Like looking at a picture of me, younger. Seems weird, too, that I got so much in common with Terry, genetics wise, yet Neil is the one I look like.”

Ezra was quiet a moment, then said, “You mentioned Tony’s wife.”

“Yeah,” Crowley shrugged. “She’s, well, she’s alright, suppose. They had, and still have an open marriage. She travels about, not even sure I know what she does, but she’s barely ever around. I knew her a bit while Terry and I were in the hospital, and I see her about from time to time. But they had a rule, see, which was no children from other people. Only reason she didn’t leave him was because I was conceived before they were married, and dad hadn’t known if I was his or not cos mum never introduced us.”

“Ah,” Ezra nodded. “I suppose that would explain everything with your mum, then.”

“Yeah,” Crowley said, seeing a certain road coming up in the distance. “ You said you were last here when your mum passed, and you were with Gabriel.”

“Yes,” Ezra said slowly. 

Crowley glanced at the time on the car radio. “We’ve got a while before Anathema would expect us back,” He said, glancing at Ezra. “Can I… can I take you on a date?”

Ezra smirked before Crowley looked away to pay attention to the road. “You sound like we’re fifteen years old, and this is the first time you’ve ever inquired.”

Crowley gave a nervous, self-deprecating chuckle. “I want to take you out to that place where we used to grab a tea before your shift at the library. Maybe take a walk somewhere there, or loop up to the park that was sort’ve between our houses when we were kids.” He turned down the road, slowing down and parking along the side near the cafe. He cut the engine, turning to Ezra who smiled softly at him. “I can’t go back and take the chances I was too scared to back then, and I hate the idea that Gabriel-”

“Anthony,” Ezra interrupted gently.

“I just want to have something like that with you, here, too. I love you, and I love that we get to have the rest of our lives together. But I just….”

“And people think I’m the sentimental one,” Ezra said as he reached over and stroked Crowley’s cheek. 

“And they’re going to keep thinking that,” Crowley grumbled.

“Quite,” Ezra humored him. “Darling, I would be delighted to have a little date with you around here. I can’t deny that I had dreamed of what it would be like to walk down these roads and hold your hand.”

“Can I take you out for cocoa, then, angel? Maybe a little treat since dessert at dad’s is never a good idea?”

“I would be delighted, love,” Ezra said, keeping hold of Crowley’s face as he leaned over and kissed him. And Crowley savored it, filing it away as at least one more good thing that happened here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We have another chapter in 2019 next. Until then!
> 
> Chapter title from "On FIre" by Switchfoot
> 
> (PS - If you know of any songs that may fit, let me know.)


	28. I Got My Heart Set on What Happens Next

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More domestic life for you all

“I’m very happy for you, Ezra, dear,” Marjorie said as she lifted her glass to Ezra, toasting him and the good news he and Anthony had shared not twenty minutes before at their gathering.

It was a relatively quiet affair, which was good since they had spent the day moving the last of Ezra and Adam’s things to the house, the furniture unneeded left for the next tenant. Which was, to say most of it except what belonged to Adam, and the bookshelves.

Marjorie was joined at the gathering by Newton and Anathema, as well as Oscar and Richard. Anthony had extended the invitation to Eric and Bea, of course, though both declined because of travel (though Ezra suspected it was more because of the way Anathema and Newton were quite close in Eric’s case). There were nibbles and wine, the boys were playing nicely with Isabel on a blanket spread out in the backyard, the novelty of having a little one entertaining them for the most part.

“Thank you, Marjorie,” Ezra replied as he tapped his glass to hers. “I do feel a bit guilty, however. Like I preyed on your good nature and hospitality.”

“Ezra, dear, it’s hardly like Eliza was going to be staying in that flat once she and Gavin had settled things. You leaving to live with Anthony isn’t a bad thing. If anything it warms my heart to see you’ve found someone you love enough to share life with. And makes me a little sad I won’t have you so close for gossip anymore.”

“I’m sure we can have a little get together and a chit-chat now and then,” Ezra assured, placing a hand briefly on Marjorie’s arm. “I’ll miss our talks terribly if I don’t see you very often. Not to mention it’s not like I have all that many people in my life these days whom I can count as my friends.” He added as he took a sip of wine.

Marjorie gave him a sympathetic smile. “At least you know the ones who you _do_ count as friends are ones you can count on.” She noted. 

“I suppose you’re right,” He agreed with a smile.

Marjorie then excused herself to go talk to Anathema, the two having not seen much of one another in the last couple of months.

Anthony was chatting with Richard and Oscar, Newton standing with him awkwardly, probably enduring topics of fatherhood while looking at his beer.

Ezra was about to go join them, ease some of the tension when he thought he heard a car in the driveway. He glanced back at his love and his friends, no one seeming to have heard it themselves, and decided to go investigate.

He went to the garden gate, stepping out and heading down the drive, spotting a familiar silver vehicle parked on the side of the road. Setting his wine glass down the front step, Ezra began to make his way over to Gabriel’s car, apprehensive of what might come.

Gabriel got out of his car but hadn’t seemed to notice Ezra right away. He looked down at his feet as he leaned against the car, facing the house while not looking at it. He wasn’t dressed in his normal, tailor clothing, but nor was he dressed in jogging gear. He was a picture of casual in denims and a jumper, but he still somehow looked like he’d thrown the clothing on at the last moment.

Ezra waited a moment, seeing what would happen, but Gabriel continued to stare at his feet. 

“I must say, this is an unexpected surprise,” Ezra said, startling Gabriel, causing him to whip his head up in Ezra’s direction and stare.

“Ezra,” He said softly, almost reverently. Gabriel stared at him, bringing to Ezra’s mind the image of a thirsty man looking at an oasis in the desert. “I… I wasn’t sure if I was going to come.” Gabriel confessed.

“I had truly thought you wouldn’t,” Ezra confessed, slowly heading to Gabriel, mindful to keep some distance between them. 

Gabriel gave a strangled, single chuckle. “Yeah, well. I think that’s what made me at least get in my car. Thought if I made the effort to try, well, it would already make me a bit better than the guy you say you’re gonna marry.”

“That’s not precisely how I would steer this conversation, my dear fellow,” Ezra warned as he leaned against Gabriel’s car with a few feet between them, glancing back at the house. 

“Right, sorry,” Gabriel said though Ezra didn’t think he meant it. “I guess I just hate losing.”

“You can’t lose what was never yours to gain,” Ezra said gently.

“But you were,” Gabriel said in equal tones. “You were mine. Maybe not my lover for more than a night, but you were mine. My best friend, my… my sunshine. My everything. You were everything I have ever wanted: smart, witty, just this little bit of a mean streak when you wanted. And beautiful. Crowley always had it right when he said you were an angel, but it never really, fully captured it. Because you’re more than that. Better than that. I have loved you forever.”

Ezra sighed. “I am sorry,” he said. 

“You don’t have anything to be sorry about, sunshine,” Gabriel said lovingly. “Hope and love blind me, and that’s on me.”

Ezra’s brows lifted, and he found himself speechless.

“I’m not going to congratulate you,” Gabriel said gently, glancing at the house before looking at Ezra. “I want you happy, Ezra, but I wish it wasn’t with him. And I will never believe he loves you, not like I love you, and if I ever find any evidence to that, I will not hesitate to prove it to you.”

“And if you never do?” Ezra challenged.

Gabriel sighed. “Wait for him to die?” He said with just enough humor that Ezra could laugh before smacking him on the chest.

“Don’t put that in the universe, I already lost too many.”

“You’re right. Sorry, sunshine.” Gabriel conceded. “I guess I’ll just hope I can meet someone else like you.”

“I do hope you will meet someone better,” Ezra said honestly. “At least, better for you.” He smiled, and Gabriel gave a grin back. “Would you like to come join us? It’s not an overly large gathering, most of Anthony’s family already knew, and between the two of us, we had few friends who could make it or weren’t part of both our lives already.”

“No, no, I’m… I’m going to head home.” Gabriel said decisively. “I just wanted to come say my piece, tell you I’m still here.” 

“I appreciate that,” Ezra said, nearly reaching for the man when he decided it wasn’t a good idea. Gabriel seemed to notice and became a little crestfallen though he nodded in understanding. “Mind how you go, dear fellow,” Ezra said as he pushed off the car, heading back toward the house.

He spotted Anthony leaning against the back gate, Ezra’s wine in hand with his own, and a loving smile gracing his face.

“Won’t come in, will he?” Anthony asked when Ezra was near enough. 

“No,” He replied, refraining from looking back. He took his wine glass, then met Anthony’s gaze. “Thank you, dearest.” He said, kissing Anthony quickly.

“For what?” he asked.

“I know you, darling, and I know you were probably waiting here for far longer than you would have ever let on. So, I thank you for giving Gabriel and me a moment where we could sort things out and put a patch on our friendship, perhaps even save it.”

Anthony’s mouth moved for a moment, his eyes darting from over Ezra’s shoulder, to him, away, back again. “If I could have been able to step up and put a patch on our friendship all those years ago, I would have appreciated whoever you were with allowing me the space to do it without anyone hovering. I don’t like the man, but I understand where he comes from. And I know he means something to you.”

“You are often far too wonderful, you know,” Ezra said, reaching up and kissing Anthony softly. Anthony chased after him when he parted, placing two more kisses on Ezra’s lips before grinning. 

“I’m not wonderful,” Anthony protested. “I’m an idiot, is what I am. Anyone else would do what they could to make sure he stays away.”

“And that’s what makes you wonderful,” Ezra assured. “Now, we should probably get back to our friends,” Ezra said as he threaded his fingers with Anthony’s leading them into the back garden once more.

~C~

“One more,” Crowley insisted, and the boys rolled their eyes, looking at each other with side-eyes before plastering on another smile. “Alright, and… okay, one, _one more_.” 

“Dad,” They said in unison, and Ezra chuckled behind Crowley.

“Okay, okay, fine.” Crowley agreed, raising his hands in surrender before putting his phone away. “Alright, are you two ready?”

“Are you?” Ezra asked, and Crowley gaped at him a moment. He didn’t seem the least bit emotional, which Crowley loathed just a little. He had to wear his sunglasses _and_ his contacts to make sure that no one would see his red-rimmed eyes or how much it killed him that his little boy was starting primary. Add a second kid to the mix, and he was damn near losing his mind.

When Crowley could only stare at Ezra, the blonde man stepped forward and knelt in front of their sons. He straightened Warlock’s tie, then smoothed out the collar of Adam’s shirt, their uniforms hardly needed the adjustments. 

“You two will be just fine,” Ezra assured. “You’ll have each other, and you’ll have your friends from nursery, and you’ll make more I’m sure of it. Your dad and I are very proud of you both.” He said with a smile that showed just how true that was. “Now, I’ll not embarrass you by giving you any kisses here.”

“I will,” Crowley declared before swooping down quicker than any of them could react and wrapping an arm around both boys. He kissed their cheeks an equal amount, going back and forth between Warlock and Adam a half dozen each until they were giggling and asking him to please stop. He let them go, grinning at Ezra who tried so hard to look perturbed but failed. Ezra re-straightened their uniforms, gave their arms a squeeze.

“We love you,” he said to them, a hand on each boy’s cheek for just a moment.

“Have a good day, papa,” Warlock said with a grin.

“Bye papa, bye dad,” Adam said, turning around and heading for the line for their class.

“Bye, dad,” Warlock added, tossing a wave over his shoulder as he chased after Adam.

Crowley sniffled. “How’d he grow up so damn fast?” He asked.

“I do know what you mean,” Ezra agreed as he stood up and went to Crowley’s side. 

After a moment, watching the boys begin to file in with their classmates, Crowley asked, “how are you really, angel?”

“Heartsick,” Ezra admitted, looking to Crowley with the first trace of dampness in his eyes that morning. “I feel like I shouldn’t be so happy or so proud right now, because I was never meant to be the one to have this day.”

“She’d want you to be happy,” Crowley assured, taking Ezra’s hand and squeezing.

“I know,” He admitted. “And I’m sure one day I won’t dwell as heavily on it. But it will not be today.” He took a deep breath. “And now, we have to get to work.”

“We do,” Crowley lamented. “I do need to go to London today, just a quick jaunt, won’t be late. But just a heads up if there’s an issue with one of the boys.”

“I’ll bear that in mind,” Ezra said as they moved around the Bentley to get in. “Though I’m sure they’ll be just fine.”

“Yeah,” Crowley agreed. “Probably will.”

~*~

He walked into the shop from his on-foot delivery a half hour late and ridiculously giddy. 

“What the hell is up with you?” Bea asked, barely glancing at him but likely sensing his vibration from a distance.

“I did something stupid.” He said with a grin that nearly hurt his face.

“Of course you did,” Bea said. “But you’re not normally this ridiculous.” 

Crowley reached inside his jacket pocket, pulling out the velvet ring box tucked inside, and opening it for Bea to see.

He’d spotted in the window on his way to drop off an expensive arrangement a few blocks down and stopped dead. He _had_ to buy it, and what’s more, he _had_ to pay for the while-you-wait engraving. Because the ring in the velvet box had screamed Ezra the moment he spotted it. Gold, the band had feathers like a set of wings touching each other beneath a smooth ring that might have been a halo if someone used their imagination. On the opposite side of said halo from the feathers was a shield on what might be flames, or leaves, or more feathers. Crowley wasn’t sure, but he liked the idea of it being flames. The shield was blank when he bought it, but now it bore the three diamonds and the three flowers.

Bea looked at the ring, then looked to Crowley. “I’m going to have to decline, seeing as how you already asked your boyfriend to marry you.”

“I didn’t ask him, he asked me.” Crowley retorted. “And it’s for him.”

“Of course,” Bea said, pausing as a customer came over with a form and handed it to them. Bea gave them a fake smile as they accepted them. “That your family crest?” They asked Crowley.

“Not giving Ezra the Crowley crest on a ring, that’s possessive.” He scowled. “It’s the Fell crest.”

“You’re giving your boyfriend a ring with his own family crest? Quite the choice in engagement rings.” Bea said, glancing at the customer and giving them another wave in a subtle gesture for them to leave. The young man gave them a quick grin and darted out, the bell tinkling softly as he left.

“It’s not an engagement ring, we aren’t doing rings.” Crowley protested as he closed the box and tucked it back inside his coat.

Bea smirked. “So by it not being an actual engagement ring, you won’t get in trouble for giving it to him. How devious. And underhanded.”

“Thanks,” Crowley said honestly, the bell above the door chiming again, getting their attention. “Neil!” He exclaimed. “I was just showing Bea the ring I bought Ezra.”

His brother frowned. “I thought you weren’t getting rings for each other?” He asked.

“We aren’t, that’s what made this so clever.” Crowley smiled wide.

“Has anyone ever told you two that one of you needs a change of style?” Bea asked, eyes darting between the two of them. “It’s terrifying how much you two look alike.”

“Might need to change it up, depending on how something goes,” Neil replied. “Which is why I’m here, actually.”

“What’s up?” Crowley asked, stuffing his hands in his denim pockets.

“Asking my girlfriend to marry me, and I want you to do the flowers for the thing I have planned.”

“I’d love to, Neil, but I have an appointment in ten.” 

“It’s me, I’m your appointment. Do you really think I would book it in my real name?” He countered.

“Why wouldn’t you?” Crowley countered.

“Because you’re an idiot, and you’d do it for free because we’re family.” Neil countered, and Crowley couldn’t argue that even when he was about to.

“Fine,” Crowley relented. “Let’s step into my office. Hey, wanna see a picture of the boys from this morning? First day of primary!”

~A~

The boys were tucked in after a long day, and as had been the habit when Ezra felt up to it, he began to unpack. Last week he’d done his clothes in preparation for the upcoming school year, not wanting to live out of boxes and suitcases in fear of wrinkles. Anthony had a walk-in closet in his room, which had to be rearranged to allow room for Ezra’s far smaller wardrobe. It had been something wonderful to see their clothes, Anthony’s dark tones and splashes of silver mixed with Ezra’s beiges and browns with touches of blues. 

There had been kitchen things as well, Ezra’s prized mugs making their way into Anthony’s cupboards, his kettle next to the coffee machine, a brief spat over who’s French press should go before they decided to keep both. During the days, Anthony and the boys had put together Adam’s room, and on evenings when there wasn’t more to do, Ezra helped Anthony set up his office in a small room downstairs, just off the living room that was hardly bigger than a broom closet but held his furniture.

Tonight, though, Ezra would finally be able to set up his bookshelves. It was something that required a little rearranging in the living room, but Anthony had been more than willing to move a few pieces of decorative art in order to make room.

Now, with a glass of wine on the nearby coffee table, a record playing softly, Ezra opened a box and began to sort through them.

He looked over each one with reverence, finding where they went on the shelves, stroking their spines once they were in place.

“Do you remember giving this to me?” Ezra asked as he flashed the black and red cover in Anthony’s direction.

“Yes,” Anthony grumbled. “The year I gave you the wing mug.” Then more solemnly. “Our last Christmas.” A second later he was off the sofa and coming up behind Ezra. “You still have it? Really?”

“It’s a book, darling, and it was from you.”

“Yeah, but… it was from me. Right before….”

“I kept the mug, and I kept the book,” Ezra turned to face Anthony, wondering at how the man could still be surprised to learn how much Ezra held on to him. With a smile, he thumbed open the book and pulled out the photo of them from secondary that he hadn’t looked at in months, not since their reunion.

Anthony took it from him, looking it over while shaking his head.

“You can see how much I adore you.” He said. “Wearing it all on my sleeve, I am.”

“I thought the same thing,” Ezra remarked. “Eliza gave it to me, found it… maybe when Adam was four or five months old, I can’t be sure. I couldn’t bear to let her toss it, but I couldn’t bear to look at it.”

“We should frame it,” Anthony suggested. “Put it somewhere, bit of a reminder not to be as stupid as we were back then.”

Ezra giggled. “Perhaps,” he agreed. “Although,” he said thoughtfully, shelving the book before sorting through a few others, finding a children’s book he’d read to Adam countless times when he lived with him before. He opened the cover, and nearly dropped the photo tucked within. “I request that this one go up, too, somewhere.” He said as he got hold of the picture and handed it to Anthony.

It was one he quite liked, though he had left it at Eliza’s originally because he felt it belonged more to her than him. He was asleep in it, as was baby Adam, flopped on his chest in a rocking chair Eliza had had when he was younger. In his lap was the book the photo was kept in.

“Oh, look at you two.” Anthony cooed. “I have one similar with Warlock, hold on.” He said as he handed the picture back and pulled out his phone, doing something on it. The frown on his face meant he’d likely be a while. 

Ezra smiled at him, setting the photo of him and Adam aside with the one with him and Crowley, then shelved the book. He then pulled out another one from when Adam was younger and opened that one, musing how his habit of tucking cherished photos into meaningful books might have to change a bit. But the book had been another relic of Adam’s babyhood, only it had been one he dubbed as Eliza’s. And within it was her least favorite picture of her and Adam, though he treasured it. 

Eliza had hated it because she was tired, and her hair and make-up were not done. She was in a simple jumper that she would say didn’t flatter her at all, and if one looked too close, one might see a stain of some sort on the sleeve. But she was smiling so brightly at Adam, turned just enough toward the camera that one could see most of her face. But her eyes were for her son, who was also smiling, mid-laugh, at about six months old. She had what she had called a better one, because her face was pressed against Adam, hiding most of her while her son was front and center. Simple photos taken in relatively quick succession on a camera phone, later printed off because Ezra was old fashioned that way, and Eliza relented that perhaps she should have some sort of physical picture of her and her son somewhere. 

Adam had that one now, in his room, because Ezra had frankly forgotten about this far better one. He’d have to switch it out over the weekend, give Adam a better view of his mother than the side of her face.

“Here it is,” Anthony said, getting down on his knees beside Ezra. He looked at his phone, then to the photo in Ezra’s hand, and smiled. “Oh, that’s a great picture of Liza,” he said as Ezra set it aside.

“I always thought so, too,” Ezra said, turning to Anthony. “Now, where’s tha- good _lord_.” He said as he took in the picture on Anthony’s phone that, had there not been a baby in it, might have been bordering on indecent in some circles.

Anthony was sprawled on a couch asleep, a small, likely still newborn Warlock curled up on his bare chest with one of Anthony’s hands holding him safe even in sleep. He was only in black pajama bottoms, and he had long, model-like curly hair that fanned out beneath him like he was posing for some sort of erotic novel cover.

“Mum took that one,” Anthony said like it hadn’t made Ezra stop functioning. “She’d come over from time to time, let herself in, make sure I wasn’t about to lose my mind or starve myself. Sorta glad she did, I don’t have many pictures of my hair when it was that long.”

“There is quite a difference between the photo of me and Adam and this,” Ezra said, gesturing with the picture. “I, for one, am wearing at least two layers.”

Anthony snickered but said nothing, Ezra continued on.

“For another, mine is… well, it’s just a photo, isn’t it? Yours… you look like art, my dear. And, quite frankly, I’m starting to wonder how in the world you ended up choosing me.”

“It’s not that… great,” Anthony said as he flicked the photo.

“Darling, had you put this as a dating profile picture instead of just on your insta-thingy, Warlock included, you’d have had more requests than you’d ever be able to fill,” Ezra said looking at the photo. “Honestly, I believe I have seen something similar gracing the covers of a few books I’d never admit to reading. Did you do any modeling the last ten years to supplement your income?”

“Not that I’m aware of,” Anthony replied, amused. “Probably a few snaps from the secret service here and there I didn’t notice.”

“You had this hair when you were the gardener?” Ezra asked in disbelief.

“I said it was long,” Anthony reminded him. “Had to keep it out of the way while I worked most of the time. It was a bloody pain to braid, but sometimes a ponytail or a knot was a bit too heavy on the neck. Harriet would do it for me, sometimes, if she was out and about and notice I looked a bit strained.”

“No wonder she had an affair with you,” Ezra mumbled, giggling at the indignant squawks coming from his betrothed. “Oh, come now. You’re a lovely man as you are, but here you are downright beautiful. And you call me, angel.”

“You are,” Anthony jabbed him in the side with his finger. “Bit of a bastard sometimes, but an angel overall.”

“You adore me,” Ezra said, kissing his cheek. He barely pulled away when Anthony captured his cheek and kissed him soundly, deeply.

“I do,” Anthony said against his lips. “Always have. Not growing my hair out like that again, though, so don’t ask.”

“Oh, I would never,” Ezra assured quickly. “No, I could see how that would have been an utter hassle.”

“Might cut it short for the wedding,” He said, and Ezra noted he seemed uncertain.

“It’s your decision, of course. But why for the wedding in particular?” Ezra asked.

Anthony shrugged, shifting the photos until the one from when they were younger was more visible. “Does look a bit neater shorter, doesn’t it?” He asked, sounding like he wasn’t sure.

“I think you’d never let it look less than neat regardless of the length.”

“Oh,” Anthony said, eyes lighting up. “Speaking of weddings, forgot to tell you. Neil’s proposing to his girlfriend.”

“That’s wonderful,” Ezra beamed.

“Yeah, might mean working around theirs,” Anthony added. “We still haven’t settled on a date. Figured if they pick first.”

“I’m more than willing to allow them to marry first, second, whenever they like,” Ezra assured. “As long as the end result is still having you as my husband sometime before the boys move out.”

Anthony laughed. “Think we can arrange that sometime in the next thirteen years.” He agreed. Then he looked at Ezra nervously, which only interested Ezra further. “Speaking of… it’s not….”

“What is it, dear?” Ezra asked, furrowing his brow.

Anthony flinched, then shifted on to his knees, tucking his phone away before reaching into his front pockets. “It’s not what you think.”

He then pulled a lovely, intricate, antique gold ring from his pocket and presented it to Ezra. 

Ezra took it from him with reverence, running his fingers over the feathers in the ring until the tips touched, He examined the crest, his heart clenching at the sight of the Fell crest etched in it. 

“Oh, Anthony,” He breathed. “We said no rings.”

“I know, I know.” Anthony rushed to say. “But, it’s not an engagement ring, per se. It’s… it’s just a ring that I saw and thought of you.”

Ezra smiled at the jewelry. “Probably for the best for it seems you greatly underestimated the size of my fingers.”

“Oh, I am quite knowledgeable about your fingers.” Anthony retorted with a wicked smirk, and Ezra smacked him on the chest, inciting a small cackle.

“You fiend,” Ezra smirked at him. “Knowledge of one another’s appendages doesn’t mean one can buy something like this without an idea of proper sizing. Certainly wouldn’t choose a ring for you based on such.”

Anthony then took the ring from Ezra’s hold, then grasped Ezra’s right hand gently in his own before slipping the ring onto Ezra’s pinkie finger.

“Admittedly,” Anthony said as he ran his thumb over the ring, “I had thought this would go on this finger,” he said, tapping against Ezra’s right ring finger. 

“Not as intimately acquainted as you thought.” Ezra teased, admiring the way the gold contrasted nicely on his hand, how well the ring fit, and how comfortable it was.

“Maybe I can be just a bit more later,” Anthony quipped, snagging Ezra’s wine glass off the coffee table and taking a sip.

“Perhaps, but no promises. I’m already fairly tired, and I have more work to do.” Ezra replied, taking his wine from Anthony for a sip.

“We’ll work together,” Anthony offered. “Besides, might find more little gems tucked away in these old stacks. Photos tucked away.” He said with an affectionate smile.

“Oh, I know I have one from Oscar and Richard’s wedding in one of the books,” Ezra assured. “Probably more here and there of Adam and Eliza.”

“Let’s see, shall we?” Anthony replied, picking up the next book in the box and thumbing through it. He did find the one from Oscar and Richard’s wedding, and Ezra began to tell Anthony about the night it took place. And for each moment Ezra unearthed from the pages of various books, Anthony would bring up an equivalent on his phone, the two spending the evening sharing memories instead of putting the books away properly like they were supposed to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is art (you would have seen the link at the end) of the picture of Crowley done by CatofApocolypse. You can find it [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28221108)
> 
> Chapter title from "This is Home" by Switchfoot


	29. I'd Never Forget You As Long As I Live

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Grab a pillow, you're probably going to do a bit of screaming.

**2014**

~C~

He awoke to a giggle, and a shutter sound, which was rude and weird since he was the only one in the flat aside from Warlock. Crowley peeked his eye open and found his mother standing over him with her phone pointed toward him.

“What are you doing?” He asked, grumbling.

“It’s my firm belief that there should always be a picture of a father asleep with their baby laying on them,” Erica responded as she tucked her phone in her back pocket, then reached down and gently extracted a sleeping Warlock from Crowley’s chest.

He was instantly cold without the warmth of his son resting on him, and he got up slowly, realizing he’d left his robe in his room the night before. 

“James would have never done that,” He commented before he ducked into his bedroom, grabbing the warm, fluffy thing off the back of his door and shrugging it on. He stepped out as he began to close it, watching his mum gently set Warlock down in his little bounce chair and strap him in, the baby still sound asleep.

“He did, for a small spell,” Erica replied, gently running a finger down Warlock’s cheek before turning to her son. “There was about three months, I think starting from when you were four months old, that he actually took an interest in you. Didn’t last long, of course.”

“Of course,” Crowley conceded. “Figured out I wasn’t his?”

“No,” Erica said, as she straightened out her jumper, “He found you boring.”

“Ah,” Crowley said. “Well, that explains why he was more than willing to sign the accounts over to me, doesn’t it?”

“How is the shop coming along?” Erica asked, leaning against the island that separated the kitchen from the living area.

“Still on schedule to open next week,” Crowley said, stuffing his hands in his robes. “Just in time for the holidays.”

“Which, reminds me, are you going to go Christmas shopping dressed like that? Might get a few discounts but you won’t be very warm.”

Crowley looked down at his clothes then at the time, huffing when he noticed it was rounding closer to noon. “It was a rough night. Lock wouldn’t settle no matter what I tried until he was on my chest like that.”

“And you didn’t stay in your room?”

“Well, sometimes moving around the flat helps! He’d spit up on my t-shirt, and I chucked that off, somewhere, and was just… so damn tired, I laid down with him like that and he settled. Fell asleep.” He said as he moved his hair off his neck a moment. 

Erica gave a grimace. “He didn’t just spit up on your shirt, love.”

Crowley frowned, grabbed his hair, and grimaced when he noticed the stain in his hair. “Right,” He said with a curl of his lips. “I’m going to shower, and then I’ll go. Probably see if I can get a haircut.”

“No,” Erica pouted. “Your hair is gorgeous.”

“It’s getting to be a pain in the ass.” He said, grabbing a hank and pointing to the spit-up in his hair. “And he’s gonna start gettin’ grabby, I’ve seen the older babies in group. They grab, and pull, and this? This is just a toy for him.” 

Erica whined quietly. “If I had hair like yours, I’d never chop it off.”

“You would have when I was younger.” He said over his shoulder as he turned to the bathroom to take advantage of someone else being in the flat while he showered, and enjoy it far longer than he had in months.

~A~

“Ez!” Eliza called as he came into the flat, brushing snow from his fedora before setting it on the coat rack. 

“A moment,” He called back, just a touch louder than normal because heaven knows Adam’s current state of wakefulness. He took off his tartan scarf and then his long, wool peacoat, hanging everything up properly before toeing off his boots and venturing to find Eliza.

She was in the living room, a couple of shoeboxes at her side, and photos spread out around her. Adam was on a blanket nearby, swatting at a toy just within his reach, occasionally trying to get his body to do more than just lift himself on his arms a brief few seconds.

Ezra went for him, picking him up and cuddling him close, kissing his head before getting down on the floor where Eliza was.

“What’s all this, then?” He asked, looking at the scattered photos.

“Found them in a box in my closet, trying to make room for those clothes Deirdre sent me,” Eliza explained, smiling at her son a moment as he began to make babbling noises. “They’re all from before university. Look! Us, from when we were still in London.” She said, handing him the picture of him and her in their final year in the city before their dad had his stroke and they would need to move. It was the last days of school, from what he could gather, and they were with a few other classmates on what seemed to be a trip.

“Mum would probably love to have a gander at these,” Ezra commented as he began to bounce Adam a little.

“Yeah,” Eliza said a bit wistfully. A beat later, and she looked nervous. “I almost got rid of this one,” she said as she pulled out a photo from under the stack. 

Ezra frowned as he took it.

“Oh,” he part stuttered, part cried, his heart not sure what to do as he gazed upon the image of a young he and Anthony. Back in secondary, still in their uniforms, looking at one another. With the photo in one hand and Adam braced with the other, he couldn’t hide the pain-laced smile behind a hand like he wanted.

“We can burn it,” Eliza suggested.

“No,” He said immediately. “No, it’s….” His eyes feasted on the image, realizing he hadn’t so much as looked at a picture of the man in nearly five years. He didn’t have a phone back then that took snaps, and Ezra was never the photographer. That had been Eliza when the mood struck her. Like it probably had at that moment.

“Ez,” Eliza said gently, forcing him to peel his eyes away from the picture. 

She looked like she was near ready to cry, and then he felt Adam’s hand on his cheek, smacking a damp spot.

“I can’t let you burn this.” He said.

She studied him for some time. “How do you still love him?” She asked, shaking her head. “How do you look at his face and not hate him?”

“Because he didn’t do anything to make me hate him,” Ezra replied.

“You told me what happened.” She retorted.

“And so you know I have forgiven him.”

“But why still love him? I can understand putting it all behind you, but holding on to him?”

“Eliza,” Ezra huffed, wiping at his face with his wrist. He tried not to sound cruel, but he couldn’t figure out a better way to explain himself. “You’ve never loved that deeply.” He started. “It’s… Anthony was… the parts of me that were missing. Or lacking. He didn’t make me whole, that would be ridiculous, but he was…. He made me less restrained. Less worried about making sure I was always doing precisely the right thing. I’d have never talked back to Fredrick Martin, let alone punch him in the face before Anthony. I’d have coward and let him say what he wanted about me or anyone else. I’d have never been brave enough to talk to Oscar, and I certainly wouldn’t have known myself enough to have told him no when he’d asked me to marry him. And I’d like to think I may have made Anthony a bit better.” He looked at the picture of those two young men, opposite in so many ways, but also so very much the same. “It’s been five years, yes,” He swallowed. “And I have tried to move on, I have. And eventually I’m sure I will because it’s unlikely I’d ever get him back….”

“You still have his number.” Eliza pointed out. “I’ve seen it in your phone, call him.”

“I can’t.” He shook his head. “He…. He’s out of my reach.” He sniffed, then looked at the baby in his arms. “Goodness,” He said with a water smile to Adam. “What is with the grown-ups getting all sad-faced?” He asked Adam quite seriously and made just enough of a funny face that he got a big, gummy grin in return. “Yes, we grown-ups are being quite silly, aren’t we? Yes, no more of that.” He said, kissing Adam on the forehead before setting him back down on the blanket and getting up, moving to the bookshelf.

“Ez?”

“You are not destroying this picture.” He said firmly, gesturing with the photograph before pulling the book Anthony had gifted him and tucking it inside the pages. “I won’t look at it and lament over what’s lost, but you will not destroy it.”

“I won’t,” She promised. “But, Ez? Let him go? Let him go or… or try. Reach out to him, find him. Just please don’t hold on to him. Not like this.”

“I’ll try.” He said, though if he were at all honest, he would admit he was lying not just to her, but to himself.

  
  
  


**2015**

It had been a few months, and Crowley still had an instinct to make sure his hair didn’t get tangled in his scarf or the papoose. And despite what he’d told his mum, he missed it. Bloody hell he _missed_ his hair! It was better for Warlock who had begun to use his grabbing reflex much more often these days, with nothing to grab with it being so short, with just a bit of length on the top. But the time he saved washing it, detangling it, etc, he was now spending styling it. It was like being thrown back ten years, and he had to make sure his hair was always styled just so. Even in the winter when he should be wearing a hat, but didn’t.

Well, it was still technically winter, but Crowley found it rather warm for March. He didn’t even have Warlock bundled up as much as he normally would, something that his little one seemed to like since it meant he could look around at people while secure in his carrier. 

Crowley was in a cafe waiting for a far-too caffeinated coffee when he glanced down at his son and saw him giving a big, gummy grin at someone. He followed his son’s gaze to a fairly handsome bloke who was waving at Warlock, mouth “hi” over and over until he looked up and saw Crowley watching him with a half-smile.

“Sorry,” the bloke said. “He’s just so damn cute.”

“Thanks, I tend to think so,” Crowley replied, perhaps putting a touch of flirt into it.

He hadn’t been with a man in a while, and after Harriet, the only person he’d been with was Bea on occasion to take the edge off for them both. But now he had his inheritance, James couldn’t hold the lesser liked parts of his sexuality over his head like a guillotine, so Crowley allowed himself to look. And what’s more, if it was an option, he’d allow himself to flirt and perhaps ask out.

The man smiled a knowing smile. “My partner and I are going to start looking into adopting after we get married next month.”

Damn. Well, no need to be rude.

“Congratulations. Definitely probably easier parenting with someone else.” Crowley mused, keeping the humor in his tone, at least. 

The man’s eyebrows shot up. “On your own? Really?”

“Yeah,” Crowley said as Warlock gurgled. “Worth it, though.”

“You know, I mean, I realize this is Soho and all, but my partner and I do have a single friend-”

Crowley laughed. “Appreciate it mate, but I think I’ll take a pass in this case. Have to get back to my shop.”

“Well, in any case, it was nice meeting you,” the man said as Crowley’s double shot of espresso in a coffee was called. He grabbed it, lifted the cup in cheers to the bloke, and then left the cafe to head back to the Garden.

It was a near-instant success. Instagramers, those who wanted to grow their own food (however small an amount they could in their small flats), and people who wanted the most exquisite or verdant bouquets and plants came to him. Whether it was the word of mouth or social media, business was flowing to the point that he was proud to be in the black well before his six month anniversary.

“Oh, you’re back,” Bea said as he walked into the shop. “You have another bride who would like to talk arrangements.” They said with as much enthusiasm as Bea ever mustered, which was to say none at all. Still, Bea being Crowley’s only other employee at the moment meant that they were both overworked, and another wedding was likely exactly what they needed to put them in a position to hire someone else.

“Right,” Crowley said, kissing Warlock on the head. “Playpen for you, then.” He smiled as Warlock squealed as if he had any idea what his playpen was.

~A~

“So sorry, dears,” Ezra said as he pushed the pram up to Richard and Oscar’s table. “Train was a little later than expected.”

“That’s alright,” Oscar said as Richard immediately went for Adam, gladly picking up the confused-looking baby to cradle while Ezra sat just on the other side of him.

This had been a normal weekend thing for Ezra, taking the train to see Richard and Oscar, either just to meet for a cup of tea and to catch up, or to talk about the very fast approaching wedding. And, because he could see how much Eliza needed it, Ezra always took Adam with him to the city.

It was one of the ways he found he could help out. He would get up with Adam a fair amount, either because he wasn’t quite asleep yet, or because he was experiencing a spell of insomnia that he hadn’t medicated. And, because Eliza was with Adam all the other hours of the day, he would give her some mum time on weekends, bringing Adam with him to London on the train where he always napped on the way there and usually on the way back. It never hurt that Richard was enamored with him, and was usually more than willing to give Ezra a break he hadn’t really needed.

“Oh, hello you handsome thing,” Richard cooed as he propped Adam on his lap and handed him one of his toys for him to grasp. “I just saw another adorable little one while I was waiting for our drinks. Single father,” Richard said meaningfully to Ezra who rolled his eyes. 

“Yes, because a man here in the city is precisely what I need in my life. On top of helping Eliza, and work. Which, by the way, I got the position. The teacher I’m covering will _not_ be returning, and they hired me full time.”

“That’s fantastic news,” Oscar beamed. 

“It is,” Richard said. “And what better way would it have been than if you had had a date to the wedding to tell this all to, as well.”

“You didn’t even know him, for all you know he was straight!”

“Oh, he was most certainly not,” Richard assured. “He was very flirty before I mentioned Oscar. I didn’t get his name, though. Terribly rude of me wasn’t it. Did you see him, Oscar?”

“I did not, love,” Oscar said with an amused grin, looking at his fiance across the table with affection.

“He was ginger,” Richard said.

Ezra paled. “I don’t go in for ginger men these days, and you know it.”

“He was handsome, though.” Richard conceded. “Strange brown eyes, though. Can’t place my finger as to why, though.”

“Hmm, well, doesn’t matter,” Ezra said, glancing affectionately at his nephew as Adam turned toward Richard and smacked the crinkling peacock (Ezra was pretty sure it was a peacock, though the colors were rainbow) against Richard’s chest. “I wouldn’t take a man I only just met to a wedding between my ex and a man I went on a date with.”

“Weddings are for meeting other lonely singles anyway.” Oscar mused, much to Richard’s displeasure. It was on purpose, of course. Ezra had seen how they purposely ruffled one another, doing so with more affection and Oscar had ever shown him. It was a little painful to see, but he bore that ache gladly. It was just more assurance that he and Oscar were never meant to be and that he hadn’t made a mistake all those years ago. 

But at the moment, seeing them banter and flirt, ruffle one another in an affectionate way, it ached more than usual. Perhaps it was because of the mention of a ginger man, someone he couldn’t help picture as a certain ginger man from his own past. But the image would be out of date, frozen from their early twenties, and age he knew he certainly didn’t look anywhere near these days. 

“You sound like Eliza,” Ezra managed to partly choke out. “She thinks it’s the reason I won’t take Gabriel.”

“No, you aren’t taking Gabriel because you have good taste,” Richard retorted quickly, then looked to Oscar. “And don’t you dare encourage him.”

“Encourage him? To bring the bloke I can’t stand? Yes, dear, that is exactly something I would do.”

“Is Gabe still seeing that one, the bloke who…, oh what was his name. The really weird one who just stares at you when you eat?”

“On occasion,” Ezra cringed. “And it wasn’t so much that he watched you eat as he liked seeing people pretend they were satisfied with two bites of chicken and a drizzle of basil.”

“Well, our dinner will be much more robust,” Oscar assured. “And have you gotten a chance to try on the suit yet? Make sure it fits like it should?”

“Oscar, I only come into the city on weekends, and I have Adam. Or I’m with you. I haven’t had the chance.”

“We should do that today while you’re here,” Richard suggested. “I’ll gladly watch this one while you’re getting sorted.” He said as Adam smacked him over the head with the same toy and giggled. Richard giggled, too. 

“May I finish my tea, first?” Ezra said, gesturing at the cup that had been waiting for him upon his arrival. 

“Of course,” Oscar said, watching Richard a moment before turning his attention to Ezra. “How is your mum doing?”

Ezra’s smile was thin. “She’s holding up.” He said, swallowing back the melancholy. “I don’t think she’s getting better, though. I’m afraid she won’t see Christmas.”

“I’m sorry, Ezra,” Oscar said sincerely. “Is she still at home?”

“For now.” He replied, sipping his tea. “She has a nurse with her nearly all the time, and she refuses to move closer to us. We’ll go see her tomorrow, as is usual, but she doesn’t want us around over much. I think she’s trying to make it easier, for when the inevitable happens.”

Oscar nodded sympathetically but likely knew there wasn’t anything that could be said. So, Ezra was infinitely glad when he changed the subject back to the wedding.

~C~

“How’s business?” James asked gruffly, ignoring Erica with Warlock as she walked around the living room, bouncing him and making him giggle with silly sounds.

Without hesitation, Crowley pulled out the most current report and handed it over.

James almost looked impressed. “You didn’t have to.” He said as he took the report.

“You’d never believe me if I didn’t.” Crowley retorted, shifting his gaze from the man who raised him, to his mum with his little boy. He smiled at the way Warlock seemed utterly delighted by Erica’s antics, his wide, mostly gummy grin, and his limbs flailing. 

He was getting so big, being only a couple of months away from his first birthday. He was pulling himself along things, trying so damn hard to walk but unable to figure out how his limbs moved yet. There were moments, like this one, that made Crowley feel like he was missing bits of his son’s life despite being there for nearly every minute of it. It seemed like just yesterday that he was still unable to crawl, that he was small enough to fit in one arm.

“What, are you in with the mafia or something?” James asked, getting Crowley’s attention again, snapping him out of his musings.

“Whaddya mean?” He asked.

“Hardly any loses,” James scanned the sheets. “You’ve only been open for, what, eight months? You’re already turning a profit, and a fairly good one at that.”

“I know what I’m doing. Funny thing about plants, they’re a bit of a renewable resource. You can grow a second or more from clippings if you know how.”

“Suppose that course wasn’t a complete waste, then,” James grumbled. 

“Suppose not,” Crowley said as he accepted the report back.

“So what’s next for you, then?” James asked. “Expansion? Start a chain?”

Crowley lifted his brows, “Neither right now.” He replied. “If I open a second location, it would be somewhere I can actually have a greenhouse. Nowhere near London, and with Warlock this small, it’s not feasible.”

“Get a nanny.” James scoffed. “Or find a wife.”

“I don’t want a nanny or a wife just to have someone who can look after Lock.” Crowley retorted.

“Why don’t you find the woman you knocked up and make something decent out of her. Couldn’t have gotten too far, stupid enough as she was to let it happen.”

“Don’t talk about her like that.” Crowley snarled. “Lock’s mum is a good woman who was in an impossible situation.”

“I’d say she was probably too ugly to tie yourself down to, but the boy is better looking than you are, so that couldn’t have been it.”

“Well, this has been a pleasant visit,” Crowley said as he got up, crossing the room to take his son from Erica. “But, I suddenly find myself recalling a need to be somewhere else.” 

“James,” Erica grumbled as she slapped her now empty hands against her legs.

“Not my problem if the boy’s soft.” He grumbled. 

“The grown man you call a boy is not the problem, here.” She snapped back, and Crowley knew the look in James’ eyes well enough to know he’d best grab the diaper bag and hustle out. Which is exactly what he did.

He still didn’t make it out the entryway before they started yelling. He snatched the folded pram from the entry and hurried out.

“What a silly pair they are, eh, Lock?” Crowley said to his son who simply giggled at his dad’s silly face. “Silly, silly,” He hissed, making Warlock positively lose it in his little baby laugh as Crowley opened the small pram with one hand. He wrestled Lock around, then got him fastened into the stroller. Once he was secure, Crowley removed his sunglasses from the diaper bag before tucking it underneath. Lenses securely in place, he took hold of the handle of the pram and headed off. 

“Well, Nana and grandpa James as a bust,” he began talking to his son. “What else can we do on this sunshiny day, hmm?” He asked, craning his head over the side a moment to see Warlock was looking about. “Shall we go get daddy some coffee and go feed the duckies?”

He continued on down the road, turning the corner to where he knew he could get a decent cup. He nearly ran his stroller into another as he did, stopping short just in time while the other bloke stumbled.

“Sorry,” He said to Crowley. “Bit of a pram palooza out today.”

“ No worries, mate,” Crowley replied with a grin.

The man frowned. “You’re… AJ, right?”

“Ah,” Crowley blinked behind his shades. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m… AJ.”

“Probably don’t remember me, we were in the same prenatal class. I’m Peter.” 

“Right,” Crowley replied, not even sure he remembered him but going along with it. “Well, as you can see, I really was expecting.” He said, gesturing down to Warlock. “This is Lock.”

“Janie,” Peter introduced his daughter. There was a pause. “Listen, are you, umm, free right now? I was on my way to get a cup of tea, and I wouldn’t mind the company. Well, grown-up company.”

“Right, yeah,” AJ said, considering it only a few minutes before deciding it couldn’t hurt. “Sure, what the hell.”

~*~

“This isn’t how I thought this was going to pan out,” Crowley confessed to the man on top of him on the sofa, and Peter laughed incredulously.

“Wasn’t setting out to get here, promise.” He replied, and he began to back off of Crowley while adjusting his clothes.

They’d talked for a few hours in the cafe, and Crowley had begun to wonder if he had a chance with this bloke. He’d been at prenatal with a woman, as were pretty much every man there but him. Yet when he’d asked Peter for his number to maybe get dinner sometime, Peter had done so gladly. Still, no way to be certain. Either way, though, to cover his bases, he brought Warlock to his mum and James’ for the night (James being out, of course), and then proceeded to have Peter to his place where he ordered in, had a film queued, and somehow found himself being furiously snogged on the sofa.

“I’m not complaining,” Crowley was quick to assure. “I just… really wasn’t expecting,” he gestured about with his hands, and Peter smiled, nodding.

“I think you and I share a similar mindset.” He said in a roundabout way. “Though I haven’t been with a guy in a very long time. Not since long before I met my wife.”

Alarm bells began to blare in Crowley’s head, and he huffed. “Mate, look, I’m not interested in being a guy on the side.”

“You wouldn’t be,” Peter replied. “Janie’s mum left after she was three months old. I haven’t heard from her, so safe to assume she isn’t coming back.”

“So I’m a rebound?” Crowley asked.

“Probably,” Peter confessed. “Is that alright, or?”

“I’m not looking for anything serious right now,” Crowley said, making sure the man knew upfront what to expect. “I got Lock, and I got a business that’s brand new, still, and I can’t focus on a relationship right now. Not with any sort of dedication. So, you wanna do this, that’s fine.”

Peter looked Crowley over thoughtfully. “Yeah,” He said simply, and back to it they went.

  
  


~*~

The wedding was really, truly beautiful. 

Oscar and Richard exchanged vows and rings in the rented event room of a hotel, the decorations lending themselves from ceremony to celebration with nothing more than a quick shift from one area to another. And once the seats from the ceremony had been cleared it became the dance floor where the couple had now begun their first dance as husbands, and Ezra stood on the outskirts to watch.

Being Oscar’s best man, to most, didn’t seem all that out of place. But there were friends of his who had known Ezra from way back when, not to mention the family, and he was fully aware how many eyes went to him when the woman marrying them asked if anyone objected.

He knew because he scanned the crowd, not thinking one bit that somehow he’d be the one so many people were worried about.

Now, at least, they left him alone to sip champagne, standing at the bar and watching from a distance. He could appreciate it all the better from there because while he had no desire for either Oscar or Richard, he was feeling rather lonely. Weddings weren’t something he’d attended often, but they were beginning to have that effect more frequently these days. 

As two of his dearest friends shared yet another kiss as a married couple, he sensed someone coming up beside him. He glanced over, expecting to see someone from Oscar’s side of things, and did a double-take at David ordering a scotch from the bartender.

“Hi,” David said with a half-smile as he waited for his drink.

“Hello,” Ezra said, blinking a moment before taking a sip of his drink while David was handed his. “I’m genuinely surprised to see you here.”

David shrugged, bringing the tumbler to his lips. He took a rather large drink before he replied. “All I ever wanted for Richard was to be happy.” He replied. “If Oscar makes him happy, then so be it. And if he wants me here to watch him marry another man, I’ll do so and wish him the best. Because I love him, and you know how the saying goes.”

“Indeed I do,” Ezra conceded, taking another, fortifying drink. “Still. Letting him go is one thing, Bearing witness to it,” he said, glancing at David again.

He took another large drink of his scotch. “You can’t tell me that had things been different, and Anthony had found someone to marry, you wouldn’t do the same as me?”

Ezra scoffed. “Worse yet, I’d have likely been in the exact same position I am today. Best man to the groom, or at least one of them, depending on who he’d found to love.”

“So you get it, you always did. It’s what I liked about you.” David said.

“Yes,” Ezra smiled sadly. “And it’s what I had really wanted to love about you.”

“Yeah,” David agreed, taking the last mouthful of drink in his mouth. He swallowed, setting the empty tumbler on the bar, and looked really long and hard at Ezra. “Maybe I’ll see you around.” He said.

“You’re leaving?” Ezra asked with a frown.

David looked at the couple again. “I was here, I saw him married off, I even shook both their hands and congratulated them. But I can’t stay here and watch them be that damn happy. Not now, not yet. If I have any hope of being Richard’s friend in the future, I need to leave.”

“Mind how you go, David,” Ezra said meaningfully, and David gave him a sad smile before taking one, long, last look at the grooms before he turned and left the room. 

  
  


~C~

While he finished his drink, already signaling for the next, someone sat down next to Crowley. He glanced over, then did a double-take at the well-dressed man beside him at the hotel bar.

“You look like you’re worse off than me.” He commented, turning back to the barkeep as he sat Crowley’s scotch down.

The man looked at his drink, then signaled for the same. “What has you drinking, then? For me to be worse off?”

Crowley took a sip, not wanting to get plastered but still wanting to feel numb. “The guy I was seeing left me to go back to his wife,” Crowley replied. “And worse part was I was beginning to like him.”

“How long?” The bloke asked.

“We were seeing each other for a few months.” He said. “He was at my son’s first birthday party.”

The bloke hummed, reaching for his glass when it was handed to him. “I have you beat, mate.”

“How so?”

“I just watched the man I love more than anything marry someone else.” He replied. “My ex, this… fucking fantastic man, who is sorta ridiculously perfect, was the best man. To his ex. Who he introduced to the man I…. Just, yeah.”

“If the ex is so ridiculously perfect, why is he an ex?” Crowley asked, frowning as he tried to figure that one out.

The bloke shrugged. “Ever wanna love someone and you just couldn’t?”

“No,” Crowley replied. “Loved someone I really shouldn’t have, and still do. Probably could have fallen in love with someone else in a different world, but didn’t. Never had someone I wanted to love but couldn’t.”

“That was us.” The bloke said as he had another drink. “Me and the ex, we… we both wanted someone else and couldn’t have them.”

“Don’t tell me this idiot stood up for the man he was in love with?” Crowley asked incredulously.

“Nah, man the ex-love is long gone. Haven’t spoken in years, had a fallen out.”

“Ah, yeah. I get that.” Crowley said, appreciating the irony as he took another drink of scotch. “Ever wonder if it’s worth it?” He asked the stranger beside him. “Loving anyone? I mean, aside from my kid, I’m starting to wonder if there’s even a point. It’s all messy and stupid and never works out.”

“Gotta believe it will,” the bloke said with certainty. “I mean, I’d like to think one day I’m going to meet someone fantastic, and I’ll forget all about Richard.”

Crowley smirked. “Named my son after the guy I missed out on, no forgetting there.”

“And you called my ex stupid,” the bloke smiled, and Crowley had to laugh. “I’m David, by the way.”

“AJ,” He replied, taking David’s hand when it offered. “So what is it you do, David.”

“I’m a teacher,” He replied, and so started a very mundane conversation about everyday life with no more talks of exes or heartache. At least until Crowley had to excuse himself a moment, heading into the quiet of the lobby to take a call from his mum about Warlock.

~A~  
  


“Of course I’m on my way home,” Ezra said to Eliza over the phone as he headed toward the lobby. 

“It’s late. And aren’t you drunk?” Eliza asked curiously.

“Do I sound drunk?” He countered, exasperated. He glanced in the bar as he passed and saw David sitting alone, nursing a drink. For a moment, he almost went to him, but what good would that do? No, if David had wanted his company, he either would have stayed at the reception, or he would have asked Ezra to join him. Aside from that, there was a jacket on the chair to his left, a glass of something at the spot. Perhaps he’d met someone?

So Ezra continued, turning left to the main doors, thankfully avoiding the crowd that had gathered in the seating area of the lobby. It was more than likely that a fair number of them had been at the wedding and needed to step out a moment, and he didn’t want them to notice him leaving. Best not to have a confrontation when he’d gone this long with only sidelong glares.

“No, which means you’ve somehow managed to do a wedding wrong.” Eliza teased. “You’re supposed to get drunk and take someone up to a hotel room.”

“Tell me again how Adam was brought into being?” He countered with a smirk.

“Don’t be an arse.” Eliza quipped back. “I doubt Lucas would have brought me to a wedding, and I certainly didn’t meet him at one.” She said, then sighed. “Honestly, though, Ezra, you should have stayed longer.”

“Eliza, I’m tired. Mentally, physically, emotionally, I’m tired. I just want to get the train home, and attempt to sleep in my own bed.”

“Well, if you insist. Just tell me about everything when you get back.”

“Will do, and I’ll see you in a while,” Ezra said as he rang off and headed for the train.

~C~

Crowley cut maneuvered through the crowd of what were likely wedding guests, scowling at the lot of them until he managed to make it through and into a clearer space to return to the bar.

He went back to David and gave him an apologetic smile. “I hate to leave you like this, mate, but my mum got paged by the hospital -she’s a doctor- and I gotta get back to my boy.

“No worries, mate.” David shrugged, then turned to Crowley with a smile and his hand once more. “Was nice sharing a drink with you, anyway.”

“Yeah, good to meet you, too,” Crowley replied, shaking the man’s hand before grabbing his jacket off the back of the chair and heading out.

He thought, maybe, if he should have asked for David’s number. But then, given how Peter played out, he wasn’t sure he wanted to be anyone else’s rebound any time soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please direct all screaming in the comments below. Thank you and until next time.
> 
> Chapter title from "I Wish You Would" by Taylor Swift


	30. I should have seen it coming (I should have f***ing known)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is 98% fluff.

Crowley sometimes wondered if he was having one, long, vivid dream. Like, perhaps, he’d wound up in a coma somehow, perhaps hitting his head or getting into some sort of accident all the way back at the end of May that caused him to dream up Ezra and Adam.

Because it wasn’t reasonable to be this happy, was it? It wasn’t reasonable to reunite with the one person he’d wished for more than anything over the years. To find out within a couple of weeks of said reunion that Ezra had always loved Crowley as well, and just a few months after that have Ezra and Adam move in with him. Oh, and have Ezra ask him to marry him. That was still something that had Crowley question reality on a regular basis.

He woke up every morning to the scent of Ezra lingering on the sheets, the spot he’d slept in still warm. He’d hear Warlock and Adam begin to rise out in the hallway, the boys having their own, separate rooms but still often ending up in one or the other. Ezra would be in the kitchen, making breakfast, and when Crowley finally pulled himself from that quiet morning bliss, Ezra would greet him with a kiss and a good morning and a cup of coffee. They would bring the boys to school, then go sneak a second cup together in what had become their spot before Crowley brought Ezra to work.

He’d then go about his day, and when the time came, he’d pick up the boys first before they went as a group for Ezra. Dinner would be discussed, and depending on the night was ordered or cooked shortly after everyone returned home. And once the boys were asleep, Crowley and Ezra would have a glass of wine, talk about their days in a way they might not have when the boys were up, and then head off to bed together to repeat the cycle again in the morning.

Two weeks. Two official, single dwelling weeks of that beautiful, wonderful life, and Crowley was beginning to get the feeling that the other shoe was about to drop. Because he’d had a streak of good that had spanned perhaps a bit too long. If there was one thing Crowley had noticed about life, it was that the good never went on unending.

So, as he leaned on the counter of the London shop, staring at the arrangement he’d finished earlier waiting for pick up, he tried to imagine what event would send his life into a tailspin.

His first thought was Gabriel. The man had been awfully silent since he’d swung by their mini engagement party but never came in. Ezra never said what they talked about, only that Gabriel was having a hard time accepting what transpired, and needed time to come to terms. But considering the man used to text every day, and call much more often than Crowley thought necessary, the radio silence was jarring enough that Ezra had mentioned perhaps checking in on him. 

He also considered Adam’s father popping back up, hinting that maybe he actually _did_ want in Adam’s life, though that one was admittedly a stretch. Crowley had seen and heard Lucas when he spoke of his offspring and suspected a cold day in Hell for him to change his mind.

Harriet always crossed his mind, very briefly, when he pondered what sort of shit storm would befall him, but he knew her better than he had a read on Lucas, and she wasn’t coming after he or Warlock. It was mostly because he’d read in a paper that she and Thad had returned to England that it even crossed his mind at all.

There was Ezra himself. What if he’d come to his senses and realized that maybe marrying his long time best friend after ten years of not speaking really _was_ a bit insane? Or worse, what if he woke up tomorrow, a week from now, maybe next month, and realized he hadn’t loved _Crowley_ , just the memory of him. 

Which led to the most worrisome part of the lot: himself. Crowley hadn’t had the best track record for relationships, he never had. He was nearly always the one that ended things, and when he didn’t, it was because he wouldn’t cave on some sort of ultimatum. And his walking away is what caused this whole mess in the first place, though Ezra would be quick to tell him he was equally guilty in not following after.

He’d circled through the possibilities, hoping Bea would come back from lunch soon so he could get back to arrangements and away from the counter where he was just waiting. Eric had always been better on the floor, helping people choose what they needed, and the other person working the floor (a new hire from Bea Crowley couldn’t remember the name of) was still learning their way about the products. 

He’d practically jumped when the bell over the door chimed, turning in hopes of finding Bea, and instead was surprised to find James walking in instead.

“Dad,” He greeted, hating the way the word felt in his mouth.

“Anthony,” He replied politely, looking around, touching a leaf on a nearby monstra. “You and I should have lunch this afternoon.”

“Should we?” Crowley countered, wondering what James was up to. Then he remembered that Erica said they split up, and Crowley hadn’t bothered to check in with him in all this time.

“When you can step away.” 

It wasn’t meant the way he said it and loathed as he was to heel to James’ commands, Crowley knew to keep the peace where he could.

“Umm,” He called, frowning in hopes for the name of the new girl to spring to his mind. It didn’t, but she dropped what she was doing and went eagerly to him, a wide smile on her face. Bit creepy, actually. He glanced at her name badge. “Sidney, I’m stepping out. Bea will take over when they return.”

Sidney nodded, moving around Crowley to stand at the counter, hands clasped in front of her as she stared straight ahead.

He frowned at her, wondering if Bea hired her _because_ of the creepiness about her, then followed James out the door.

They did not stay in Soho, which didn’t surprise Crowley at all. They went just outside of Soho, on the Mayfair side, to a place that had outdoor seating and where a lunch plate cost no less than twenty pounds. 

Half of Crowley’s brain wondered why he hadn’t taken Ezra here, given how much he would certainly enjoy it. The other found it all very unsettling because this was not something James did. Never once, in all the years that Crowley lived in London, did he pop by to have a meal.

Crowley watched him, trying to read that calm, cool exterior, wondering what line of questioning regarding Erica he was going to get. Once they ordered, James asked about the business, and Crowley gave him his usual answer, long past the point where he felt he needed to prove he wasn’t bullshitting over how well it was thriving. He asked James how things were at work, and James gave his normal, noncommittal response.

“I have a new intern.” He added once the food arrived.

“Of course you do,” Crowley responded casually as he began to pick at his overpriced salad. 

“They’re very eager to please,” James commented, and Crowley sneered.

“I don’t want nor need to hear that,” He glared at James.

“Oh, but I think you do,” James said without malice, which only confused Crowley more. “See, he is more than willing to run all my errands. Practically comes when called like a well-trained dog, and I didn’t have to lift a finger to teach him. I say ‘grab my dry cleaning’ and he goes. ‘Get me lunch’ and he’s back at my desk with it in hand. ‘Order my mistress some flowers’ and he goes to the one shop I have asked him to pop into now and again many times over without question. Because, after all, it is the best spot in London. Everyone who is anyone knows it. And he knows _you_ , hard for anyone not to when you’re a freak show.” James said this as one would state the weather before putting a bite of steak in his mouth and chewed.

It took everything Crowley had not to roll his eyes, freak show though they might be behind the brown contacts. He wasn’t actually known for his eyes, he kept them fairly well hidden. James just loved to bring them up. Though Crowley could never tell if it was because it was how James had always felt and refrained from saying anything when he was little.

“But then, you’re not my son, are you?” James added in the same factual town as before and Crowley stiffened.

He stared at James, gauging how he should answer that. “Yeah,” He finally managed, seeing no point in denying it.

“When did she tell you?” James asked while preparing another bite of his meal. 

Crowley pushed the leaves in his salad around. “She didn’t, exactly. It was something I came to find out, or figure out later.” He replied, deciding to keep as much about his second family from James’ knowledge as he could.

It surprised him that James grinned, something genuine and what might have been nice if it wasn’t for the fact that James had only ever smiled at Crowley like that once: when he announced Crowley was going to be a father.

“Good on you for keeping that to yourself. How many years, now? Three, five?”

Crowley remained silent.

“That long?” James asked, eyebrows shooting up.

Crowley pressed his tongue to his teeth before saying, “he was my doctor when I had my appendix out.”

James laughed, shaking his head, going back to his food for a couple of minutes, and Crowley apprehensively picked at his own. Divorce proceedings likely hadn’t started, and he knew he was feeding James all the ammunition he needed to take his mother down, but it was also nothing a private investigator wouldn’t find out eventually.

“I gotta say, I’m impressed. You played me, not many people can do that.” James replied.

“I didn’t play you,” Crowley bit out through clenched teeth. “You’re my-”

“Not your father.”

“You raised me. You’re my dad.”

“I am not,” James said casually like he didn’t care. “But I could be.”

Crowley frowned. “What?”

“I could pretend this whole conversation never happened. I always had my suspicions, of course, I’m not an idiot, but until Erica tossed me out, I hadn’t really considered finding out. And I almost didn’t, because you were successful, with a son, and I suppose one couldn’t ask for more than that. Until I found out you were engaged to a man.” 

Everything in Crowley’s body went momentarily cold.

“H-how…?” He stammered.

“Like I said, have an intern who is just so, damn eager to please. Asked me if I wanted to send my son a gift to celebrate his engagement to his partner, Ezra. Now, how long has _that_ been going on?”

“Not as long as I would have liked. Is there a point to all this?” Crowley asked, regaining his composure and footing.

“Yes,” James said, dabbing his face with a napkin, resting his hand on the table over top of it. “End it.”

Crowley blinked.

“You’re joking.”

“I’m not.”

“Why would I do that?” Crowley asked incredulously.

“Because,” James tilted his head. “If you don’t, you’ll wish you had.”

“Going to make my life miserable, are you?”

James pursed his lips, then leaned forward. “I thought about it, long and hard, figuring out what the best way to go about this was. See, I can’t force you to drop my last name, you’ve had it too long, people _know_ you. And, really, that could come back on me in a bad way. I had thought about maybe taking it out on your mother, but I don’t see the point in that, either. It’s not like Erica has ever been mother of the year, you two aren’t especially close, and she may just have enough hell to pay when my lawyers get to her. I considered, very briefly, sending someone to threaten that fairy you’re so damn attached to, but then… then I thought… firm hand.”

“Firm hand?” Crowley repeated.

“Yes, a firm hand. The way I kept you in line until you were nearly thirty years old.”

Crowley scoffed. “You’re going to try and take my money back, is that it?” he asked, eyebrows climbing higher.

“Call it off,” James repeated.

“No.” 

“You’ll regret it,” James warned.

“I’ve lived with enough regret regarding Ezra Fell in my life to know all too well what it looks like,” Crowley said, his jaw tightening. “There isn’t a damn thing you could do to make me regret staying with him.”

James smiled. “We’ll see.” He said, standing up. “You’ll have a week, two if I’m generous, to change your mind. If I don’t hear otherwise, I’ll assume you didn’t listen. And don’t think I won’t be checking in to see if you’re trying to call my bluff if you do call.”

James headed toward the podium set up for payments. He pointed at Crowley before handing the man at the podium his card, waited for it to go through, then waved at Crowley with a cheerful grin.

Crowley bared his teeth and returned the smile with a wave that was nothing more than a wiggle of his fingers.

There was nothing James could do, and Crowley knew it.

~A~

“Are you sure this is something you want to do?” Anthony asked him as they spoke on the phone to each other while Ezra walked to the cafe they usually went to in the mornings.

“It’s something I should,” Ezra countered, waiting to cross, smiling and waving to a couple of students who shouted hello at him. “I may not care for him the way I care for you, but he is my friend, and we had a relatively large disagreement. If I want to keep my friendship with Gabriel-”

“‘If’ being the keyword, there, angel.” Anthony cut in.

Ezra carried on, “Then lunch with him is the least I can do. And, it’s a good opportunity seeing as how I have a bit of a longer one than normal, given my free period immediately after.”

“And I find it terribly convenient that he knew which day that was,” Anthony grumbled.

“Yes, dear.” Ezra retorted, the light changing and allowing him to continue on. “How’s work going so far?”

“I’d much rather being doing this in Tadfield,” Anthony grumbled. “Arranging here, now, feels a bit like being in a fishbowl. And the bride was an utter nightmare. I swear, angel, if you get particular about the cakes and what not the way this woman was about flowers, I will-”

“You’ll what?” Ezra smiled. “Not marry me?”

“I didn’t say that,” Anthony grumbled. “Just won’t be making a big to-do of it. Go to city hall, sign some papers.”

“Hmmm, well, you have me there,” Ezra deadpanned his tone, still grinning. “Terrible romantic that _I_ am.”

“You _are_ , don’t you deny it.” Anthony retorted back. “I suppose I should let you go, shouldn’t I? Probably almost there.”

“I am,” Ezra confirmed, the cafe getting closer, and Gabriel’s car already parked outside of it. “I shall see you after work, then.”

“Right. ‘Til then, angel.”

“Bye, darling.” He said before ringing off, stepping inside the cafe.

He smiled and waved to the barista who had been there this morning, glancing around and spotting Gabriel in the corner with lunch for two already waiting. 

Ezra made his way over and noticed Gabriel seemed more nervous than Ezra had ever known him to be. He grinned when he spotted Ezra, but it was small like he wasn’t sure it would be welcome. He twitched, as though he meant to stand, but thought better of it.

Ezra slid into the booth across from him. “You don’t need to be so flighty, Gabriel.”

“Sorry, sunshine.” He apologized. “Just… not sure.”

“It’s the same as it always was, my dear fellow.” He assured though he refrained from offering comfort physically. He kept it to a grin, even if it was perhaps a bit strained. He glanced down at the salad Gabriel had grabbed for him, noting with minor dismay that it lacked anything that might make it taste somewhat edible, but carried on anyway. No sense in rocking the boat over something minor such as greens. “How are things? Your promotion?”

That set Gabriel off, as Ezra knew it would. He began to slowly pick at his food, chewing and nodding, making the appropriate hum or grunt at the right spot while trying desperately to appear interested in Gabriel’s office politics. At least it was like it had always been. At least the unease between them had disappeared for a short amount of time. He’d nearly just about choked down his bowl of leaves and some sort of flavorless dressing when his phone began to vibrate in his pocket.

Normally, Ezra wouldn’t have looked, but normally no one would think to call him during what would be the school day. Of course, there was the chance that it was simply a telemarketer or some other nonsense. But Anthony may have needed to ask him something, it could be Michael calling to inform him he needed to return to the building for his free period for some reason or another. 

As discreetly as he could, using Gabriel taking a pause to stab the last of his own bland meal to do so, Ezra checked his phone. 

“Oh,” He gasped out, his body chilling. “Excuse me, Gabriel. It’s the school.”

“Work’s calling you?” Gabriel asked, surprised.

“No, the boys’ school,” Ezra explained before answering. “Hello, this is Ezra Fell speaking.”

“Hi, Mr. Fell, this is the school nurse.” The woman on the other end replied calmly. A good sign, Ezra hoped. “I wanted to let you know, first off, that it’s not an emergency. But, I had had difficulty getting a hold of Warlock Crowley’s father.”

“He’s in London today,” Ezra replied, his heart racing. “Is Lock… is he alright?”

“He’s not running a fever, or anything of the sort, but he seems very much in pain. He’s complaining of a headache, and it seems bad enough that he’s lying in my exam room with the lights off and his eyes closed. Does he have a chronic issue with headaches?”

“No, not that we’re aware.” He said, feeling a little lost. Anthony had never mentioned anything that he could recall. And while Warlock complained a little bit here and there about his head hurting during the summer, Ezra had thought it was tied into his allergies. It had also never been as the nurse described. “I suppose I should come get him, then?”

“If you could.” The nurse replied.

“I’ll be there as quick as I can.” He replied before ringing off. He looked at Gabriel who watched him wearily. “You wouldn’t happen to still have that booster you purchased for Adam?” He asked, wringing his fingers after tucking away his phone.

“Yes, I do have the booster for _Adam,_ ” Gabriel replied firmly.

“Please, Gabriel.” Ezra started.

“I’m not going to go get Crowley’s kid from school.”

“He’s my son, too.” Ezra retorted.

“No, he’s not,” Gabriel replied, sounding thoroughly annoyed.

Ezra stared for a moment. “In your idea of a perfect world, had I ended up deciding that you were the man for me, and I had Adam, are you telling me you’d have not considered him your son as well?”

Gabriel floundered. “Of course I would, but that’s-”

“Of course you would,” Ezra repeated. “Because he’s my son. And while nothing is yet official, Lock is my son as well. And right now, my son needs me. Now, I could hop a bus to the school, pick him up, and hop a bus back to our home. But I am asking my friend, who I happen to be with at the moment -who has a car, and a booster- if he would very kindly help me get my son home so I can take care of him with as little discomfort to him as possible.”

Gabriel opened his mouth, but the only thing that came out is an uncertain sound. Ezra watched him wage war with himself, seeing every emotion playing over his face before he sighed.

“Fine.” He relented. “Not for Crowley, not at all, not even for his kid, but for you.”

“I’ll take that,” Ezra said as he rose from the booth, collecting his refuse to drop on the way out. He glanced over his shoulder, seeing Gabriel still sitting a moment as if collecting himself, and then rose. He followed Ezra out the door, getting out his keys and unlocking the doors with a push of the button. 

As Ezra got into Gabriel’s car, he took out his phone once more and rang Michael’s number.

“I won’t be returning after lunch, a bit of a family emergency.” He told her when she answered.

“Everything alright?” She asked.

“Yes, yes, one of my sons is ill and needs to be taken home, and my fiance is in London.”

He could hear the smirk in Michael’s voice when she replied. “I’m going to have to hand your class off to Ligur.”

“And he’s more than welcome to wax poetic on how wonderful physical education is if he must.”

“This is how I can tell family life has softened you,” She mused. “You’d have been horrified before.”

“Well, I-”

“It’s nice, Ezra.” She cut him off. “Go take care of your family.”

He looked at his phone when the call cut off, and couldn’t help but grin to himself. He had, of course, told Michael everything even before telling Newt at the party. There was paperwork, after all. She’d teased him a little, but offered her most sincere congratulations, and left it at that. He’d never been happier about having such an understanding boss. He knew for a fact that there was at least one other principal he’d worked with in the past that would have asked him to find someone else to watch Warlock, especially since he wasn’t technically his, and get back to work.

As they pulled up outside the school, Ezra turned to Gabriel. “Would you mind terribly getting the seat ready?”

“Not for you,” He replied, parking the car so Ezra could get out. 

He made his way into the school, was directed into the nurses' station near the front office, and popped inside.

The nurse looked up when he came in. “Mr Fell?”

“Yes, hello.” He said, glancing at a closed door off to the side. “Is he?” He asked, indicating.

She nodded and got up, went to the door, and knocked very lightly. She opened the door as softly as possible. “Warlock?”

“Is dad here?” he asked in a very strained voice. It broke Ezra’s heart.

“No, dear, it’s M-”

“It’s papa, Lock.” Ezra cut off, flashing the nurse a smile when she reared back and frowned. 

“Papa, my head hurts.” Warlock said, turning his head and peeking at him through barely opened eyes.

“I know, my darling,” Ezra said as he went up to the exam table and brushed Lock’s hair aside. “I’m going to take you home, and we’ll try and get you right as rain. Would you like me to carry you out so you can rest your head and keep your eyes closed, or are you too big for that?”

Warlock immediately lifted his arms, and Ezra chuckled quietly as he bent down and picked the boy up. He was a bit heavy, but nothing he couldn’t manage.

“Do I sign him out with you?” He asked the nurse.

“Yeah, that’s fine, just over here at my desk.” She said as she led him over. Sheepishly, she said, “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were dad, too. You’re just down as his second, there wasn’t a relation to Warlock listed, so I just guessed.”

“It’s perfectly fine,” Ezra assured, signing one-handed while she held the binder the sign-out form was in steady. “Our family is still a bit new. His brother is listed the other way around, myself first and Anthony second.”

He hadn’t put a relationship to Adam either, as he hadn’t known what to put. 

“Alright, Lock, feel better.” The nurse said with a grin despite Warlock not seeing, and Ezra headed out, collecting Warlock’s backpack and jacket as they hung by the door.

Outside, Gabriel stood by the car, back passenger side door open, and the booster placed.

“Lock, do you remember Mr. Haven?” Ezra asked as they got closer. Warlock nodded. “He’s going to give us a ride home, okay?”

“Okay,” Warlock mumbled, and Ezra placed him inside and got him fastened. 

The drive to the house was wonderfully quiet, Gabriel having the radio off and not bothering to fill the silence with chatter. 

Once home, Gabriel didn’t get out of the car, and Ezra could sense him watching him get Warlock out. Once he had the boy and his things once more, Ezra went to the window which Gabriel then rolled down. 

“Thank you,” He said, putting all his appreciation into it.

Gabriel merely gave a quick quirk of his lips and a nod. “I’ll see you, sunshine.” He said, and once Ezra and Warlock were clear of the car, he took off.

Inside the house, Ezra sent Warlock straight up to bed, telling him he will be there in a few minutes, then called Anthony.

He answered almost right away. “Are the boys okay?” He asked, bordering on panic. 

“It was Lock, he has a pretty bad headache,” Ezra told him as he went about getting Warlock a tall glass of water and one of the children’s headache tablets. “Has he had anything like this before?”

“Once, last year,” Anthony replied. “But, if I’m honest, I didn’t think it was that bad. Lock had it rough, didn’t fit in well in his nursery. Thought maybe he was having a bad day. I mean, I treated it like it was real, of course, and it probably was, but….”

“Did his mother have problems with her sight?” Ezra asked. “It may be that he needs glasses.”

Anthony was quiet. “I don’t know if I remember seeing Harriet with glasses. But suppose….” Anthony sighed. “I feel terrible, I should have been there. Glad you were, at least.”

“As I always will be.” Ezra replied. “Now, get back to work. I’m going to see to our boy.”

A few incoherent sounds came from Anthony before he finally managed an, “alright, bye.”

Ezra brought the water and tablet up to Warlock, and as the boy dutifully chewed the tablet, Ezra helped him undo his tie. When the water was drunk, he helped Warlock change into pajamas, then tucked him into bed.

“Papa, will you read to me?” He asked as Ezra soothed his hair back.

“Would you like that?” Ezra asked, and Warlock nodded. “Alright, I’ll read. But nothing too silly so you can rest.”

He picked a book or two off the shelf, and sat on the bed beside Warlock, feeling the boy’s head press against him, seeking comfort. While Ezra read softly, he stroked Warlock’s hair until he fell asleep.

~C~

He thought it would be odd, maybe a bit uncomfortable, having just Adam to pick up. Crowley may have lost his mind a little when Ezra referred to Warlock as theirs, and considering how much time Ezra had spent with him without Crowley about, it made sense that the ease would be there.

But Adam? Crowley loved him to bits, but he hadn’t had the same amount of time to really bond with him the way Ezra seemed to have bonded with Warlock. Adam may have been the first to address them both as his parents, but Crowley was still trying to comprehend how he came to have that honor when he still felt a step out of place sometimes.

Yet when he waited outside the Bentley like he had every day at pick up, Adam still greeted him with a big smile and a “hi, dad” without Warlock doing so as well. He still ran up and hugged Crowley’s legs, and it was only after that he seemed at all off. 

“Is Lock okay? Teacher said Papa came to pick him up. Only, she called him my dad. Which was weird, because I thought she was talking about you.”

“I think Lock’s fine,” Crowley managed to say, opening the door and getting Adam settled inside. “And your teacher probably doesn’t know how our family works.” He added before he got in as well, turned the key, then stopped.

He might get in trouble. He might not. He weighed the pros and cons, and then found a strange sort of compromise. 

“Adam,” He said, getting his attention from where he was waving to his friends out the window. “How would you like to go grab a hot cocoa, just you and me? And, maybe we can pick up a cake or something to take home to Lock and papa.”

“Alright,” Adam’s eyes lit up, and Crowley smiled.

He headed through town, a few blocks away from the house, to the little bakery shop that he’d bought Ezra’s birthday cupcakes from a few months back. 

Once inside, he placed their beverage orders and asked to have a chocolate cake boxed up to grab as they were leaving.

At a table, Adam happily wrapped his hands around his cup, whipped cream on his nose from when he took a dainty sip. Crowley smiled, handing him a napkin.

“Your papa was always so terribly fond of cocoa, I’m not surprised in the least that you ended up the same way.”

“He used to make it for me every weekend when I slept over,” Adam replied, taking another sip. “His is better than here, but it’s still pretty good. Though there was one place in London, where we would meet Oscar and Richard….” Adam prattled on, and Crowley listened with amusement. How talk of a cafe turned to the museums Ezra would take Adam to, then the parks, and so on.

It was as he was telling another tale involving Oscar and Richard that Crowley’s attention was drawn to the door and he watched Gabriel saunter in. He was looking at the case of cakes, frowning, and Crowley was damn near tempted to pretend he wasn’t there and he never saw him, but guilt ate at him.

As Adam finished his story, Crowley smiled at him. “Oscar and Richard spoiled you rotten, didn’t they?” he commented, and Adam nodded with a mischievous grin. “Gimme one sec,” Crowley told him, then turned toward the unaware Gabriel and called his name.

Gabriel turned toward them, and Adam turned to wave before taking another drink of his cocoa.

Gabriel took a deep breath, then came over to their table.

“Crowley,” he said stiffly, then turned to Adam with more warmth. “Hi, champ.”

“Hi, Mr. Haven!” Adam said. “Dad took me out for cocoa. Lock went home with papa earlier ‘cos he’s not feeling good. But it’s okay, ‘cos we’re gonna bring home a chocolate cake for them.”

“Are you?” Gabriel replied, his shoulders sagging just a little, his tone a bit disappointed. 

“Uh-huh. Which is good because chocolate is both papa and Lock’s favorite. So they’ll be really happy.”

“That’s nice,” Gabriel said, then turned to Crowley.

“Thank you,” Crowley managed to say. “Ezra told me you helped out.”

“I didn’t do it for you,” Gabriel replied with barely any politeness.

“I’m well aware, thanks.” Crowley retorted with a scowl. “Doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate myself.”

There was a long, awkward pause before Gabriel nodded once. “Okay.” He acknowledged, then turned to Adam, giving him a light punch to the shoulder. “See ya later, champ.” He said before turning around and walking right out the door, having never ordered anything.

Crowley watched the door a second before something clicked. “Adam, why do you call Oscar and Richard by their names, but you call Gabriel ‘Mr. Haven’?”

Adam shrugged. “Mum said it was because they were family friends, and Mr. Haven is more just uncle Ezra’s friend. And that we didn’t want to get,” he frowned, “fam-il-er with him.”

“Familiar?” Crowley guessed with a smirk, and Adam nodded. “Why’s that?”

Adam looked over his shoulder at the door and then leaned across the table. “Mum used some words I can’t say. They weren’t nice.”

Crowley tried in earnest to keep the laughter in, but simply couldn’t. Within seconds he was giving a great guffaw, much to Adam’s confused pleasure, but managed to keep it short for the sake of those around them.

“Your mum was a great woman,” Crowley said.

Adam’s smile grew a little smaller. “I miss her sometimes.” He admitted to his cocoa. “But papa said it was okay if I don’t miss her all the time, so I don’t feel bad.”

“It is,” Crowley nodded. “And it’s okay when you do miss her, too.”

Adam nodded as well. Then he tilted his head. “I think she didn’t want me to miss her too much.” He said thoughtfully. “I think that’s why papa has you, now. Because when she left, she didn’t want us to be lonely. So now we have you and Lock.” He shrugged. “I dunno.”

“Maybe,” Crowley replied, trying to wrap his mind around the brilliance of this little boy.

Adam met his eye. “Does Lock have a mum?”

Crowley blinked. “Everyone has a mum.” He replied.

“Yeah, but, does he have a mum like I had a mum?” Adam asked, and Crowley wished the world would open up and swallow him whole.

He had no idea what to say to this child when even _Warlock_ hadn’t asked about his mum since he was quite little and wondered why he only had a dad. It had been easy at the time, a simple “some kids only have one parent” had satisfied his curiosity, and he carried on. 

When all Crowley could do was stutter, Adam continued. “Mum once told me I didn’t have a dad, but there was a man who helped give me to her. Is that how it was with Lock? Did a lady help give him to you?”

“Yes!” Crowley latched on to that far faster than he’d have liked. “Yes, that’s… exactly how it is.” He cleared his throat. “Finish your cocoa, we need to be heading home soon.”

~A~

Ezra absolutely lost it when Anthony recounted what happened in the bakeshop that night in bed. He knew Anthony was only pretending to be affronted, his chest shaking as he tried not to follow Ezra over the edge of laughter. Eventually, the giggles came out as Ezra’s started to peter off, and Anthony flung his hands in the air.

“I didn’t know what else to do!” He proclaimed.

“You probably did the right thing.” Ezra managed to say, still chuckling a bit. “Eliza was adamant that Adam never be lied to about how babies came to be but merely given age-appropriate information. So, a man helped her have him, but he wasn’t Adam’s dad. He didn’t have a dad.”

“Warlock’s never asked, is that weird?”

Ezra shrugged. “I don’t think so, they’re only five, after all. Adam’s always been a precocious child, perhaps not overly bookish, but still. He was about three, I think when it first came up. Deirdre had been pregnant with their second, and Adam was curious.”

“Whatever happened to her?” Anthony asked.

“She and Arthur moved to the states about a year ago, I believe,” Ezra replied. “She and Eliza kept in touch, but she hadn’t been able to make it back for the funeral.” His heart ached, but he didn’t feel like crying, which Ezra counted as a win toward healing.

“Well, if Lock ever asks, I’m taking a page out of Eliza’s book, then. Birds and the bees, bloody hell, that’s going to be a conversation, isn’t it?”

“I think we’re still a few years off, dear.” Ezra reminded, turning onto his side so he could better look at Anthony. He took in his face, his eyes, as he played with a strand of his hair. “I suppose I should have asked this beforehand, and I do remember Gabriel asking, but… do you ever think of having more children?”

Anthony frowned. “I don’t know.” He admitted. “I think I really did get to a point where I expected Lock would be my one and only.”

“Would it matter to you if they were adopted? If we had another?”

“No,” Anthony frowned further. “Why would it matter? Adam’s adopted. I mean, yes, technically, he’s your family, but he’s still adopted. You did mail in those papers, by the way, didn’t you?”

“I had,” Ezra confirmed. “But I had wondered, since Lock was yours, if perhaps….”

“Angel, if there comes a time that we decide we want another child, I will gladly adopt one with you. And if we never have any more than just Adam and Lock, then we just have them, and I’m happy with that as well.”

“Alright,” Ezra said, feeling oddly relieved though he couldn’t pinpoint why.

He had filled out the adoption forms to make everything official in regards to Adam being his son. It wouldn’t take long, he was told, and there likely wasn’t going to be any issues as he was already considered Adam’s legal guardian, and there was no other family that would fight for him. It had got him wondering, though, if maybe he’d have to do it again, for another child with Anthony. He remembered how long it took Oscar and Richard and began to wonder if maybe he should ask Anthony if that’s what he had wanted sooner rather than later. He just hadn’t thought of a great way to bring it up before.

“Do you want another?” Anthony asked.

“I’m genuinely unsure,” Ezra admitted. “I love Adam, I love Lock, and if we had another, I would love them, too. But I don’t need another child. I would be perfectly content with just the four of us. But if you wanted one, well….”

“Babies are hard.” Anthony lamented. “And I do so love sleep.”

Ezra chuckled. “Yes, that you do my love.”

Anthony huffed. “Let’s… can we table this one?”

“Yes,” Ezra said. “It’s just a thing I was curious about. My curiosity has been sated.”

Anthony smirked. “Anything else need to be sated?” He asked with a lilt.

“No, you fiend.” Ezra smacked him lightly on the chest while Anthony giggled. “Honestly, have you grown up at all?”

“Only where it matters,” Anthony replied cheerfully. “Maturity, and all. Parenthood.”

“Still a flirt,” Ezra mumbled.

“Yes, but these days, I only flirt with you,” Anthony said, rolling on his side and kissing Ezra soundly. “Doesn’t matter anyway, I’d have made you do all the work.”

“Of course you would have.” Ezra quipped.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Anthony asked with a grin.

“You know perfectly well what it means,” Ezra replied haughtily. 

“Not a clue,” Anthony teased as he shifted closer to Ezra. “Anyway, I’m beat. You reading a while?”

“Probably. I’ll get the main light, use that reader thing you gifted me.” Ezra said as he shifted up, propping his back against the headboard.

“E-reader. Bloody hell, angel, I swear you do this on purpose,” Anthony grumbled as he settled in, pressing his forehead to Ezra’s tartan-clad thigh.

Ezra smirked because he did, in fact, do it on purpose. He rested his hand on Anthony’s head, then settled in to read for a few hours while his future husband drifted off.

~C~

It had been a terribly busy day, but at least Crowley could work in the Tadfield location. Close to home meant he could grab the boys after school, saving Ezra from having to go there after secondary let out. It meant Crowley got to have a longer breakfast with his love, and then lunch with him on the one day a week Ezra had his free period immediately after (thwarting Gabriel’s attempt at a second lunch ’date’ to boot).

Crowley was tired, but the end of the day was near, though he had a mountain of paperwork to sort through at home. Which was fine, because he loved snuggling up to Ezra, getting it done while his angel read or graded or formed lesson plans. It was the sort of domestic bliss Crowley had dreamed of having one day and didn’t think he’d achieve.

He was just finishing up when Anathema knocked on the door frame, popping her head in with a frown. “AJ, there’s someone here who needs to see you?”

He frowned as Anathema showed the man in, ducking back out to likely deal with a customer.

“Hi,” Crowley said, wiping his hands on a rag before approaching the bloke. “How can I help you?”

The bloke handed Crowley an envelope, gave him a sad sort of smile, and left the room.

Crowley stared after him, frowning.

“The hell was that about,” he mumbled before he looked down at the envelope in his hands, seeing the stamp in the corner bearing the name of the Crowley family’s lawyer’s law firm.

His frown only deepened a moment as he tried to recall if there had been anything he’d have contacted his lawyer about.

Then he remembered James’ threats. It had been a couple of weeks, though it felt like a lifetime, and Crowley had pretty much forgotten it.

He certainly didn’t call off his engagement, he hadn’t even told Ezra he had met with the man. Crowley almost tossed the envelope aside to be dealt with tomorrow when it suddenly dawned on him how perfect the timing of this envelope’s arrival was.

Ezra had only sent in his forms to adopt Adam last week. And now a sad smiling man in a suit had just handed Crowley an envelope without so much as a “how do you do” and walked away. An envelope from a law firm.

Fear and panic struck as Crowley fumbled the envelope open and pulled out the papers, ignoring the sting of the paper cut the action produced.

He skimmed, searching, eyes scanning every word on the clearly legal document for any sign of Ezra or Adam’s name.

None came, and for a brief moment, Crowley’s whole body sagged, and his racing heart calmed until he took a minute to read everything over more clearly. He read, re-read, then read once more the document while his stomach slowly started to feel heavier, his heart sinking down to it, causing everything in him to go cold once more.

“AJ,” Anathema said an unknown time later. He looked up at her, seeing the concern, not being able to feel anything about it. “It’s almost time for you to get the boys, you’re usually out the door by now. Everything alright?”

Crowley swallowed the lump in his throat. “No. No, it’s not alright.” 

Anathema stared at him a moment then came to his side, reading the document over his shoulder.

She mumble-read, then stopped short and silent, staring with growing horror before she turned to AJ.

“He’s suing you for the Garden?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for your continued support and love of this story. This chapter brings us firmly into the final act. I'm guessing less than 10 chapters left over all.  
> After the epilogue, I'm super duper toying with the idea of writing those missed chances from last chapter (and at least one of the upcoming ones) as what-if's. As in, what if Crowley waited around the cafe, or what if Ezra went to check on David after all. Let me know what you think.  
> Until next time.
> 
> Chapter title from "Should Have Known" by Robyn


	31. You're Not Here and It's Killing Me

**2015**

It was an absolutely gorgeous day, one in which Crowley basked in like a snake sunning themselves on a rock. He reclined on a lounge chair in Tony’s backyard, sunglasses on despite his siblings being very used to his eyes. He could hear Warlock babbling away on a blanket with his Tony, and Crowley felt utterly content.

“How can you stand that much black?” Chrissy asked as she sat on the second lounger, and Crowley peeked at her with a smirk.

“Just do,” He replied with a careless shrug. “Wore it all the time while gardening, too. Though I must say, the shorter hair is better for the heat. Lighter, that’s for sure.” 

She hummed, her own long hair piled up high on her head. She fidgeted with it, then looked at the glass of lemonade in her hand before taking a slight sip.

“How do you think you did?” Crowley asked after a moment of quiet between them. “Your interview, I mean?”

“I think I did alright,” She said with her own little shrug. “Wasn’t all that bad, but I can’t say I answered everything the way I should have either. Probably could have been better prepared.”

“As long as you think you did well enough to get hired. That’s the main thing, right?” 

Chrissy smiled and turned to face him. “If I did end up not getting the job, I can I come work for you.”

“It won’t come to that,” Crowley smiled. 

“You’re staying over tonight, aren’t you?” She asked curiously. “I thought I saw an overnight bag in the guest room.”

Crowley scratched his head, “Yeah. Figured might as well. By the time we get dinner done, and have a laugh, it’ll be late, and I hate driving back to London with Lock that late. Getting him out of the car seat is like trying not to detonate a bloody bomb. Figured maybe I might… explore the old haunts if I feel up to it. Nostalgia and all.”

Chrissy stared at him. “You mean torturing yourself?” She challenged. 

“Meh,” Crowley shrugged. “Same thing, really.”

“When are you going to get over him?”

“Never,” Crowley swore. “Don’t want to. Think I would have given his name to Lock if I wanted to be over him? No, I just… miss him. Every day, I miss him, and I’ll probably never see him again. Just don’t wanna let him go, either. Reminds me I gotta watch what I say, think it over before I react.”

Chrissy hummed, shrugging a shoulder. She then leaned back, face toward the sun. “I left Roland.”

“Did you?” Crowley asked, genuinely intrigued. Roland had been around for as long as Crowley had known the Adams as his family. He was a handsome lad, but a bit possessive and more than a little controlling for Crowley’s liking. 

Chrissy nodded while keeping her eyes closed. “Met someone else, someone I like more. Elliot, good bloke, thespian, nice though.”

“Good for you,” Crowley said and meant it. 

“Just sort’ve saying,” Chrissy went on. “Roland I’ve known since I was fourteen.”

“I know what you’re gettin’ at, but it’s not the same. You and Rolly were datin’ the whole time.”

“No, might not be the same, but you get the idea.” 

He did know what Chrissy was trying to get at, but it was best to let it lie. She wasn’t there, she didn’t live with him through it all. She only knew the aftermath, the heartbreak, and like a good sister, she took his side.

Like Eliza would have taken Ezra’s.

It suddenly occurred to him, for just a brief moment, that someone in town might still have a way to get in touch with Ezra. Maybe he could ask about some of those old haunts, see what he could learn.

Or, as he was pretty sure was going to happen, he’d just drive back to London in the morning and try to forget the idea entirely. 

~A~

“It’s sunny out,” Ezra observed from where he sat in the cafe he and Crowley used to frequent before his shifts at the library. It was also a very short walk away from the hotel he and Eliza were staying at. Gabriel had been kind enough to drop them off, give them space after the service. There hadn’t been a gathering, there were so few people who attended the funeral as it was. And of those who did, Ezra and Eliza barely knew any of them. It would have been terribly awkward, and they were already dealing with enough emotion.

Eliza looked at him, he could feel it, but he still studied the world outside while bouncing Adam on his knee. 

“It’s always depicted in books,” he continued, “And in film to be raining when the protagonist buries someone they love. And it was quite heavily overcast the day we buried dad. It just never really occurred to me that a day of sorrow could be bright and cheerful.”

“Well, that’s fiction, Ez.” Eliza countered.

“Yes, I know. But it’s an observation nonetheless.” He paused, looking at the cup sitting untouched and well out of Adam’s reach. His tea was probably cold, and he wasn’t sure he rightly cared. “I don’t know why I thought he’d be there.” 

“I don’t know why you thought he would be, either.” She said, and he looked at her then. 

Eliza’s eyes were still a bit pink from earlier, though neither of them had really cried.

They had gotten a call from the nurse nearly a week ago, saying the time was coming. He and Eliza had packed what was needed, got on the train, and were there within a couple of hours. They were at Cynthia Fell’s side when she passed, and that was when they grieved their hardest.

After that, it had been setting in motion the various arrangements Cynthia made. They started with packing up the house, or at least what they hadn’t already here and there since they were told it was only a matter of weeks. They made the calls required, said their farewells to their family home, and booked rooms at the hotel.

There had been some tears during the service from them both, parts that moved them, made their hearts hurt, but they had long found acceptance and so their grief was muted.

Ezra sighed. “I suppose… he was there for dad. You had Deirdre, and I had Anthony. And now, you had Deirdre and I had….”

“Gabriel.” She said, “loathed as I am to admit it. He showed. He helped how he could.”

“He did, didn’t he?” Ezra conceded. 

“Have you ever considered…?” Eliza began and he turned to her in shock. She put her hands up, “I’m not saying I suddenly like him. I still think he's a bit of an arrogant prat, but he cares about you. And what’s more, he’s here. A bloke who will go to a town he’s never been to for the funeral of a woman he’s never met because she happened to be the mum of the one he fancies? I’d consider him if I could tolerate him.”

Ezra scoffed. “A ringing endorsement, that.”

“It’s something,” Eliza shot back. “Now, give me my son back, please. You’ve had enough snuggles.”

Ezra giggled as he passed Adam back to his mum, the baby quite pleased if his outstretched, grabby hands had anything to say about it. He watched them with a smile, still sometimes taken aback by how naturally Eliza had taken to motherhood. How much she seemed to bask in it even when it challenged her the most. She was quite a bit like their own mother, he realized. 

His heart clenched. 

“I think I might start heading back,” He said. “I realize it’s probably not what anyone would call wise, but I think I would quite like to be alone for a while. Read a book, drink some wine.”

“Maybe not wise, but you are nearly thirty, and live with your sister and her infant. Circumstances what they are, I don’t think anyone could fault you for wanting some space.” Eliza assured. “Quite looking forward to a bit of it myself, if I’m honest.”

“Is this a hint you want me to move out?” Ezra smirked as he began to get up.

“Don’t you dare,” Eliza half teased, though that brief spark of fear in her eyes betrayed her. “Not quite ready to be entirely on our own yet.”

“Of course,” Ezra said as he placed a hand on Eliza’s shoulder. He then placed a kiss on her head. “Do let me know when you two make it back to the hotel, though.” He said, and she hummed her agreement before he left, starting his own walk back and trying not to think about anything but a novel and a good bottle of red.

~*~  
  


Hours had gone by, the sun starting to set outside, and Ezra still was….

He didn’t know. 

He’d come back and read in his room yet not retained a word. He’d gone out for an evening stroll, even stopping by the library to see a few of his former co-workers. But all they did was offer condolences, and act as though he would burst into tears at a moment. After that, he went and bought a bottle of wine, then returned to his hotel room, opened it, and went for a shower. 

The day wouldn’t leave him. He’d scrubbed and stood in the scalding heat, trying to just penetrate the strange sort of numbness that took over reality. He wanted something to make sense, to fit within his perception of reality.

People wanted him grieving and upset, and he was, but not for the reasons he should be. 

Of course, he mourned the loss of his mum, but it had been a while coming. And yes, his heart ached at the thought of never seeing her again, never hearing her voice, but there was so much more to it than that. It was the stark reality presented to him by the funeral, by handling the aftermath, that it was really just he, Eliza, and Adam left. There had been no aunts or uncles, no cousins in attendance. There was no family left, or if there was, they were so far removed they didn’t count.

It was seeing that he didn’t have a lot of people in his life in general. Eliza had friends from the paper she worked for, she had Deirdre (which hurt the worst for so many reasons), and he had… he had Gabriel, Oscar, and Richard. A call from David when he’d heard but he was in France for a few weeks and wouldn’t be there. Ezra liked his quiet life, he liked his books and his simple pleasures, spending time with Eliza and Adam and only a select few. But seeing so few people there for him when he may have needed them was eye-opening.

It was missing Anthony Crowley so damn much more than he had in the last five years that he felt near the tailspin he’d gone through when they first separated. 

Dried and dressed in his tartan pajama bottoms and a simple white t-shirt, he moved to the small sofa in his hotel room, the wine he’d opened to breathe and his mobile resting on the coffee table in front of it. He’d grabbed a tumbler from beside the ice bucket as he went, and didn’t even lament that it wasn’t a proper glass. 

Ezra poured a decent amount of the red liquid and then sat trying to sort through the aches and numbness, wanting to find a way to fix something inside him.

He looked at his phone, and picked it up, unlocking and opening his contacts.

Anthony’s name was no longer listed, not since he realized Eliza had noted it. He’d changed it to a simple Astrix, keeping it there, at the top, and something he knew only he would relate to Anthony. A star, really, for all those times they’d laid out and looked at them - drunk or otherwise. For the interest he had, though maybe not quite enough to become his focus, not like plants had. Eliza had explained emojis once, but he wasn’t about to use a plant to mark a number he hadn’t used in years. A number he purposely carried over from his old flip phone to this new, stylish touch screen despite its disuse.

He looked at it now as he took a sip of wine. What would Anthony do if he called? Would he answer at all? Would the conversation be polite and stilted? Would he immediately hang up upon understanding it was Ezra?

There was a fantasy, though, of “oh my god, how’ve you been?” Of “It’s so good to hear from you, I’ve missed you.” There was a longing for some breathless declaration or apology, and hours talking and catching up. Ezra couldn’t even bring himself to hope for more, to even imagine for a moment it could happen. So he refused, and stared at the phone, sipping his wine, working up the courage.

Caution was just about thrown to the wind, his thumb just about to tap the call button when there was a knock.

Ezra sighed heavily, setting down his phone and wine, ready to assure Eliza that yes, he was fine. No, he didn’t need anything. Yes, he’ll watch Adam if that’s what she needed. He crossed the room and went for the door, and was quite surprised to see Gabriel on the other side.

“Oh.” He said.

“Hey, sunshine,” Gabriel smiled.

“What… why are you still here? In town, I mean? The service was hours ago.”

Gabriel shifted from one foot to the other, looking oddly nervous for a man who never seemed to _be_ nervous. 

“I… didn’t want to leave until I knew you were okay.” He admitted. “Thought I’d have a drive about, see where you grew up, all those places you talked about. Had dinner. I was about to head out, but… I had to check on you. Make sure you were alright.”

“That’s awfully kind of you,” Ezra said, Eliza’s words from earlier in the day whispered in his mind. “Would you like to come in, have a drink? I only have a red wine, but it’s not a terrible vintage.”

Gabriel’s eyes widened, and… was that a blush on his cheeks? Did Gabriel blush?

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, I would like that.” Gabriel replied with a shy smile.

 _Shy, really_? Ezra thought as he opened the door wider and stepped aside.

He watched Gabriel enter the room, look around as one always seems to do when they enter a room for the first time. He was still in his suit from earlier, dark gray and perfectly tailored, a fine figure by anyone’s standards. 

Ezra shut the door and grabbed the second tumbler, gesturing for Gabriel to follow him to the sofa. He set down the second glass and poured, then resumed his spot from earlier.

“How are you, really?” Gabriel asked as he picked up his glass and took a sip.

“I’m… I really don’t know.” Ezra confessed with a shake of his head. “A mess, I would wager, but just not the way everyone thinks I am.” He glanced up and met purple eyes. “I’m quite tired of seeing people who knew me watching me with sympathetic eyes, waiting for me to break down at a moment. I’m… not content by any means, but I don’t feel… bloody hell, I’m not sure what I’m feeling.” He said with a strained chuckle, taking a drink. “I would love to feel something I could grasp, something I could hold and say ‘this is it, this is what I am in the moment.’ Be it sadness, love, humored, angry, something tangible that I can put a name to so I can sort it out.”

Gabriel took a very delicate sip of his wine before he set it down on the table. He stared at it for some time. “You want to....” He said.

“I want to feel something that isn’t this odd numb state I find myself in, yes.” Ezra agreed.

“Can I….” Gabriel started and then seemed to stop. His head and shoulders dropped a moment, and he closed his eyes. Ezra took another drink before he set his own wine beside Gabriel’s, frowning at the man. A beat later, Gabriel squared his shoulders, lifted his head, turned to Ezra. “Can we try something? If… if it doesn’t help, if it doesn’t… spark anything you can tell me to leave, and we can never talk about it again if you don’t want, or….”

“What do you have in mind?” Ezra asked. 

Gabriel put his hand on Ezra’s shoulder, giving it a squeeze, kneading the flesh beneath it. Then he leaned in, very slowly, and Ezra’s mind kicked into gear.

His initial, visceral instinct was to shove Gabriel away. But Eliza had made a point, Gabriel had been there and maybe he deserved a chance. And what was a kiss, anyway?

Gabriel’s mouth touched Ezra’s very hesitantly, delicately, and Ezra nearly laughed at how careful it all was. 

But it did start to wake something up. Gentle, careful kisses were awakening a whole other part of Ezra that he hadn’t examined in over a year: lust. And lust was easy to grasp onto, once it made itself present. Lust could consume, Ezra had learned, and chase away everything else, including common sense.

Ezra took hold of lust as he took hold of Gabriel’s lapels, and pulled them closer, diving into both with abandon, and shoving everything else to the back of his mind.

At Gabriel’s surprised, pleased moan Ezra pushed him back on the sofa, chasing what was on offer and pinning it down. Briefly, he recalled a kitchen counter, the taste of beer instead of wine on lips that were similar but oh so different beneath his own.

He shoved it to the back of his mind, too. Focused on the man beneath him. The man that was there. He loosened buttons at the collar of Gabriel’s shirt, feeling his pulse jump and race beneath his fingertips.

Gabriel threw his head back, away from Ezra’s lips, and did not shive Ezra away as he ventured to Gabriel’s neck. 

“Ezra,” he panted. “I-”

“Just tell me if I’m overstepping,” Ezra said, his thumb grazing Gabriel’s jaw.

“Not overstepping.” He rushed to say. “I’m yours, do with me what you will.” He sat up, shrugging off his jacket and tossing it aside before undoing his cuffs and pulling his shirt right over his head, throwing it on the floor with his jacket. “I’m here, sunshine, for whatever you need.”

For a brief moment, Ezra hesitated. Gabriel, however, didn’t seem to notice. He was pulling Ezra back to him, a hand in his curls firm but not demanding. The other went beneath Ezra’s t-shirt, his wide, warm palm caressing Ezra’s side and back. He kissed expertly, and yet desperately.

Gabriel was giving himself over to Ezra. Considerate and caring Gabriel, the one who was there, and had been there, for the last five years. Longer even. The one who didn’t leave. The one who, when he kissed Ezra, didn’t run away.

Ezra let go of everything else but the moment and lived it.

~C~

Crowley went for a walk around town before their late dinner, Neil and Terry coming in from out of town, and still a bit away. Far enough that Tony had encouraged Crowley to head out on his own for a while, have a break from Warlock without having to put effort into anything because he had a date. 

Admittedly, while it was all nice in theory, he missed his boy something terribly fierce. 

Crowley had made it down near the old library, contemplating cutting his time short at nearly every block when he turned around and smacked right into someone.

“I’m so sorry, mate, wasn’t payin’ attention.” He apologized, reaching out and steadying the person he bumped into.

“Anthony?” 

He frowned. 

“Anthony Crowley. Bloody hell, you turned out fit.”

It took entirely too long for Crowley to realize who he was speaking to. “Freddie?”

Freddie laughed, throwing his hands out to the side before wrapping them around Crowley. 

With his arms pinned to his side, and his brain having a hard time comprehending what the hell was happening, Crowley let himself be rocked against the shoulder of his first boyfriend, trying to think of something nice to say. Freddie wasn’t even a fraction as beautiful as he’d been in Crowley’s memories, and when he was finally released, a second look confirmed it. 

He wasn’t unpleasant to look at by any stretch, but he wasn’t the radiant thing Crowley recalled when he thought back to that time oh so long ago. Like a fallen angel that lost their shine but was maybe still made for temptation.

“How’ve you been, mate?” Freddie asked jovially. 

“Good, good. Got a shop in London these days, selling plants. I’m a dad.” He added, pulling out his phone and showing Freddie the picture on his lock screen. “Lock’s a little over one now.”

“Thank Christ you don’t go in for that month nonsense,” Freddie mumbled. “So, you’re…?”

“Single,” Crowley replied, knowing the question. “Decided I didn’t wanna wait, got a surrogate, went it alone.”

“Really? Brave man.” Freddie grinned.

“You got a husband, kids?” Crowley asked, starting to feel a bit awkward.

“Ah, divorcing, actually.” He said with a foot shuffle. “Well, legally separating. We had a partnership, not an actual marriage.”

“Sorry to hear,” Crowley said genuinely. 

“Yeah, well, these things happen, ya know?” He shuffled. “You ah, you um still… no, you know what, never mind. What are you up to?”

“Just having a walkabout,” Crowley confessed, adjusting his shades. “Gotta be back at my dad’s by like seven or so, but I mean, hey, if you wanna join me, catch up.” 

He was guessing at where Freddie was going with their line of conversation, the way he was standing near, the way he turned toward Crowley.

Freddie grinned. “Yeah, would like that.” Crowley nodded once, waving the way forward for Freddie to lead. And Crowley grinned, acknowledging to himself that it may not have been who he wanted to run into on the streets, but it wasn’t a bad reunion. 

It was also sort of amusing when he realized one of the things that made Freddie a bit less beautiful was the fact his nose was just a bit crooked.

~A~

He hadn’t expected it to go on for so long. He knew by about one or two in the morning he wasn’t going to want to get on the train with a one-year-old and endure a trip back as tired as he was. So Ezra called the front desk and was gladly told an extra night would not be a problem. 

Part of him had expected Gabriel to slink home in the early hours after they’d gotten a bit of sleep. Instead, Gabriel had ordered breakfast, stayed, continued to be there for Ezra however he wanted Gabriel to be there. He expected Gabriel to be ready to pack up and go by lunch, having not had a change of clothes with him. He’d never known Gabriel to want to look anything less than perfectly put together, at least he hadn’t before last night. 

And it was fun, sort of. Awkward in many ways, as every time he’d tried to keep it light, keep it fun in a playful way, Gabriel would be far too serious, damn near devotional in some instances. It had been enjoyable and eased something in Ezra he hadn’t been able to settle on his own. 

He’d be much more grateful if he could just know when Gabriel intended to go home. 

“Hey,” Gabriel said, pulling Ezra from his thoughts. They were still on the hotel bed, though Ezra had had his pajamas back on for a while. Gabriel had only managed to pull his boxers back on, lounging about decidedly on display. 

When Gabriel had Ezra’s attention, he ran his knuckles down Ezra’s arm. “I’ve had a bit of a surprise I’d been meaning to share,” he said. “Figure now is probably the best time.”

“Is this a good surprise, or am I going to have to make an immediate appointment with my physician?” Ezra asked with a crease of his brow, and Gabriel threw his head back laughing.

Honestly, it wasn’t that terribly amusing, and Ezra wasn’t entirely joking.

“No, no, nothing like that. You’re fine. No, it’s umm…. I bought a house.”

Ezra’s eyebrows went up. “Oh, that’s wonderful to hear.” He said with a genuine smile. “Whereabouts? Soho, Mayfair?”

Gabriel made a face. “Tadfield.” He said like it was obvious. 

Ezra blinked. “Tadfield?” He repeated. “Did you… have you transferred?”

“No, nothing like that,” Gabriel shook his head. “It’s just, well, I wanted to be closer to you. And now, well, now we can make it our home?”

“Our home?” Ezra repeated, voice pitching as a sinking feeling started to form in the pit of his stomach.

 _Oh, dear_.

“Yeah,” Gabriel went on, oblivious or ignoring Ezra’s widening eyes. “I mean, I get that it might be a bit. You’ve got to make sure Eliza’s alright, after all. But, you know, once you know she’s good, you can move your stuff in. I couldn’t help it, there’s this spot by the bay windows where a set of bookshelves would be amazing. And, you know, we’ll have a couple of spare rooms, one could be our office, one could be a guest room. Or Adam’s room, because it’s more likely that’s what it will end up being used as. But what would you want to do for a backyard? I was thinking something simple.”

“Gabriel.” Ezra jumped in. “I… I think we may have had a bit of a misunderstanding in regards to what’s happened here.”

Gabriel gave a nervous chuckle. “Wh-what do you mean?”

“Well, I mean,” Ezra began, sitting up and wringing his hands in his lap. “That is to say that while this little, uh, dalliance of ours was nice- er, lovely. Umm, I don’t… I don’t really view you as more than a friend. A very good friend, especially after, well, umm, everything that we’ve done. Ah….” He sighed, shoulders sinking. “I’ve used you terribly. I’m sorry”

“Sunshine, hey,” Gabriel said as he scrambled up on his knees, cupping Ezra’s face. “Don’t be sorry, okay, you have nothing to be sorry for. Look, I may have… maybe jumped the gun, got a bit hopeful. But, hey, you know, I get it. Sometimes you just need to get laid. And I’m here for you if that’s all you want or need. And when you want something more, I’m open to it.”

Ezra chewed his bottom lip. “That’s the thing, Gabriel. I’m not sure I want something more. I’m….”

 _I’m what?_ Ezra thought to himself. 

“I get it,” Gabriel said in a way that made Ezra sure he wasn’t getting where Ezra was coming from at all. “And, hey, with me being closer, we can hang out more. Have dinner, get a movie, something.”

“Right,” Ezra said, feeling a bit lost. 

“I should probably be heading back,” Gabriel said, getting off the bed slowly, gathering his clothing and putting them on in no great rush. “Taking yesterday off, I probably have a lot of emails to sort through, reports to look over.” He listed. “I mean, nothing too terribly important I’m sure. So, you know, nothing that couldn’t wait until Monday, but… but might be better to get done now.”

“Of course.” Ezra nodded.

“Do you, umm, need a lift back to Tadfield, or?” Gabriel said, moving his hands about now that he had his clothes mostly to rights. A few buttons that could be done up, but nothing he’d be thought of as indecent if he left them undone. 

“Well, seeing as how I very foolishly, or perhaps wisely, paid for another night here, I may as well use it to my advantage. A night away from Eliza and Adam, or an extra night, anyway, means a little quiet. I may even finish the book I had intended to read.”

“Sounds great, sunshine.” Gabriel smiled, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “You know, if you think you might get lonely-”

“Oh, no, I’ll be just fine,” Ezra assured. “Mind how you go, dear fellow.” He said, and Gabriel headed for the door with his jacket slung over his arm. 

He paused with his hand on the handle, turning just enough to give Ezra what might have been a devastating smile, then finally left.

Ezra remained exactly where he was for long enough that he was very, very sure that Gabriel was probably down by the lifts. He then went for his phone and quickly dialed Eliza’s number.

“Got your text,” she said when she answered. “You were planning another day there? What possible reas-”

“Liza,” He said calmly, surprising himself a bit. “I have just made a terrible mistake.”

Eliza was quiet for a long time before she said, “You slept with Gabriel.”

“How-?”

“I saw him in the lobby, heading up when I was walking Adam about. And then suddenly you’re not coming out of your room, you’re staying longer. Sorta was able to put it all together. Big question is, why was it a mistake?”

Ezra glanced at the coffee table, at the open bottle of wine that remained mostly untouched. He grabbed the bottle and took a drink right from it. Then, he told her.

~C~

“Surprised you didn’t sleep with him,” Bea told him as they moved around the kitchen, helping Crowley throw together a meal for the two of them. 

He’d just relayed his reunion with Freddie from the night before to Bea, much to their dismay. But Bea had always been a pretty good listener, and they didn’t judge outwardly, which Crowley liked at the moment. 

“Would’ve been weird.” Crowley protested, glancing in the living space to make sure Warlock was still on the rug playing away with his big wooden blocks. “Bloke was my first boyfriend, lost my virginity to him. And besides, wasn’t all that attracted to him when it boils down to it. Was just sorta nice to catch up, have a chat with someone I sorta knew. Grab a drink that wasn’t alcohol with an adult that wasn’t family or you.”

“I’m touched,” Bea said without feeling. “Still, so we’re clear, you and I are not getting back into all that.”

“Yeah, why is that again?” Crowley asked. “Not that I’m protesting, or anything, just curious.”

Bea shrugged. “Seeing someone. Or, nearly seeing someone. Don’t want to have to explain how my boss is also the person I tend to shag casually now and then. People get weird about it.”

“Yeah, they really do.” Crowley agreed, making a face as he thought on it. “Well, no problem there. Thinking about abstaining for a while.”

“Oh?” Bea said in disbelief.

“Well, it’s just…. Keep saying I’m going to give up men, give up women, back forth, and you know, maybe it’s me.”

“Insightful, continue,” Bea said, tossing a veggie bit in their mouth as Crowley moved around them.

“And me? Well, I quite like me, really, no need to change me. I got Lock to think about, and I just can’t fuck around anymore. Pun intended. ‘Cause I’m not finding any good ones out there. They’re all… married, or vapid, or just plain awful. And they keep finding me. Like Freddie. Freddie was gorgeous back when we were young and I was just so blinded by it. But he was awful, still sorta awful. Fun to have a chat with and all, but no one I would wanna date.”

“Dating isn’t exactly required for a shag, AJ.” Bea pointed out.

“Yes, but it’s going to start being mandatory for me,” Crowley said with conviction. “Fifth date. Third, if I already knew them for a while before we start dating. I just… can’t anymore. I’m going to be thirty years old next year, time I better bloody well grow up.”

“Good for you.” Bea deadpanned. “Now, are we going to eat, or are you just going to rant all night?”

“Actually, I wanna hear more about this person you’re thinking of datin’?” Crowley said, and so they traded off, Bea telling Crowley what was happening, and Crowley listening while tending to Warlock and cooking.

It was, all in all, a pretty good night. Something Crowley thought he had a few too little of in the recent years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really want to clear up any doubts now, given by how worried everyone was in the comments. No, the intern is not Gabriel. Gabriel would never work under a man who hated what he was for anything. If Gabriel's going to try one more time to break them apart, he's going to do it on his own.  
> The next two chapters will be 2019.  
> What ifs are looking so very likely that now I'm just trying to figure out if it would be best to have them as a separate "fic" or as chapters after the end of this one.  
> Anyway, until next time.
> 
> Chapter title from "Missing You" by Ingrid Michaelson


	32. I'm Here and I'm Yours

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If I could tag a chapter individually, this would be "angst with a happy ending"

**2019**

“James is suing you.” She said in growing disbelief as if saying it in a different way would somehow make it more real..

“Yeah,” Crowley choked out. 

“Why would he do that?” Anathema asked. “Why would he sue his own kid-”

“Because I’m not. I’m not his kid, and I knew.” Crowley retorted, looking at the papers and then tossing them down on the work table. He began to pace the area he was in like a caged tiger, pulling at his hair where he could. “I knew for years I wasn’t his kid, and I… I took my inheritance. So now, instead of being a father… he… he turned businessman. He’s suing for his portion of the Garden. What the inheritance would’ve covered.”

“Which is…?” Anathema asked.

Crowley looked down at the forms and swallowed again, stopping his prowl. “This one? None. London? My savings -which were _meant_ to go into the shop- went to my flat, to stuff for it and for Warlock. I had the building, but… my inheritance would have covered about seventy percent of the start-up costs, sixty at best. Which would mean, if he won-”

“He would own more of it than you,” Anathema said slowly, the realization coming to her as it did Crowley.

“And he’ll want to buy me out.” Crowley nodded. “And when I don’t sell, when I refuse, he’ll drag me into another legal battle I would likely never win to wrestle the rest from me.”

“You’re talking like he’s already won.” She pointed out.

“He may as well have, Anathema,” Crowley replied hopelessly, a mirthless laugh escaping from him. He ran his hand over his mouth, trying to rid himself of the smile he didn’t mean, but it wouldn’t budge. “I don’t have my own lawyers, I have a Crowley family lawyer. Meaning, of course, they work for the same firm as whoever my father has does, and they won’t touch my counter case for anything.” He shook his head. “I am fucked.”

“I still don’t understand,” Anathema said, pressing her hands to her head before swinging them wide. “Yes, you’re not biologically his kid. And yeah, you knew for an age, and he probably did, too.”

Crowley moved his head from side to side, hand doing the same to say the “sorta” he couldn’t choke out.

“So why does it make a difference?” Anathema demanded. “It can’t possibly be because your mother left him, so what made him suddenly decide that thirty-four years of being your dad suddenly doesn’t matter?”

Crowley met her gaze dead-on. “I’m marrying a man.”

Her jaw dropped. “You fucking can’t be serious.”

“How can you say that when you know what he’s like.”

“A homophobic asshole? Yeah, I get that.”

“He made me an ultimatum weeks ago,” Crowley confessed. “Told me to call it off, that he’d know if I didn’t, and that I would regret not doing so.” 

“Ezra’s going to freak,” Anathema said with a shake of her head.

“Ezra’s not going to know,” Crowley warned, pointing at her. “Not until I have this sorted, and don’t you dare tell him, either.” He said before roughly opening a drawer in his work table and stuffing the papers inside. He then grabbed his jacket. “I’m counting on you to keep this between us.” He said more gently as he stopped beside her, shrugging it on. “He can’t know. If he knows….”

She put a hand on his shoulder, “Do you really think Ezra will walk away if he finds out?”

Crowley looked her in the eye, the word “yes” on his tongue and tasting terrible. He was infinitely certain that Ezra would pack his and Adam’s things and leave. He would put as much distance between them as possible, probably only allowing the boys to remain in contact while severing everything else. He’d distanced himself enough times here and there through the years when he thought it would be easier on Crowley if he thought it would be best. 

Anathema seemed to understand without him having to say it and simply nodded. Letting him go to get the boys, and pretend everything was fine.

~A~

September was coming to a close, the leaves were turning and the morning brought a film of condensation to the windows of the house. Ezra sat on the sofa of the living room in the early hours having not slept a wink the night before. He sipped a cup of tea, taking in the space he was in, noting the way they had blended their lives so seamlessly in so many ways. The tartan throw over the back of the modern sofa, the vinyls a mix of classic rock and classical, homework with two separate styles of handwriting cover the pages. A collection of photographs, of Adam and Ezra, of Warlock and Anthony, of the boys on their first day of school, of Ezra and Anthony on one of their last. 

Everything about this should have made him feel warm, but Ezra found himself nearly as cold as the autumn morning.

Something was different. 

He’d noticed it about a week ago when Anthony had been late picking him up. He’d said there was nothing wrong, he smiled and carried on as if there wasn’t, but Ezra knew better. Still, he could have chalked it up to a bad day, and let it go.

Except Anthony went into his office that weekend, and barely came out. He stopped sitting with him on the sofa in the evenings to work as he had gotten in the habit of doing. Unless it was designated his night for dinner, he would go off to the now hated room down the hall until the meal was ready. He would still laugh and smile at the boys’ stories over dinner, and help with the chores, but he was quiet for the latter. It was like his mind was in the stars, and again, Ezra could have waved it off. He knew, roughly, that there was an anniversary coming up for the Garden in London, so it wasn’t a terribly far fetched idea that Anthony had his mind on that. 

But he would come to bed late, give barely more than a kiss and a mumbled “love you” before turning over on his side, away from Ezra, and if he wasn’t asleep right away, he made no attempts in using that last bit of waking time to engage Ezra in anything.

Individually, these things weren’t odd. He knew, he _knew_ that there was a honeymoon period in relationships, when the nights were no longer filled with banter-laced, witty conversations, or passionate and playful physical affection. And they had gone fast, probably too fast, from reunion to practically married in not even half a year, things were bound to cool off just as rapidly.

He knew Anthony Crowley, though. He knew that man to the depths of his soul, and he was hiding something. 

There was a voice, small and callous, that tried to convince him that it was more like Anthony was hiding _someone_. He’d never known Anthony to be unfaithful to those he was with, except for perhaps the enlightening knowledge that all those times in the past he’d been pining for Ezra. It went a long way to ease those worries, though that voice also reminded him that Warlock wasn’t exactly a conventional accident.

And if Ezra refused to listen to that line of taunting, the same callous voice reminded him he'd changed physically in the last decade. Ezra was softer, rounder, frumpier even when he was doing his best not to be. Even his tattoos, something he loved because of their meaning, were mismatched and perhaps in awkward places when one were to look over him. Anthony was still a picture of perfection, lithe lines, and a walking canvas. Short hair or long, he was always stylish, modern, someone who turned heads and caught attention. A man brides and grooms alike couldn’t help but flirt with a little while talking about the arrangements for the day they marry.

It was entirely possible, too, that Anthony encountered enough couples since his own engagement to make him question if marriage was worth it. Because there _were_ so many clients who flirted mercilessly with him. Because he would see, first hand, how quickly the happiness fades as weddings get planned. How many had canceled their orders of the last few years as the date got closer? Anthony could be having cold feet.

Or he could be worried about… but, no. That was silly, Anthony wouldn’t start distancing himself because of the date. It was unlikely he even recalled what the last day of September was. And if he had, If he was concerned about Ezra and Adam, he’d have started doting, not withdrawing.

Anthony was hiding something. There was no way around it.

Ezra took a drink of tea, finding it had cooled more than he expected in his ruminations. 

“Hey,” Anthony’s voice came from the stairs, and Ezra very nearly physically startled at the softly spoken word. Anthony frowned at him, taking in the clean trousers and dress shirt, the tea in his hand, then looked at the clock. “Did you sleep last night?” He asked.

Ezra tried a smile. “No.”

“Why didn’t you take your pill?” Anthony asked, coming toward him, probably far too cold without a shirt to go with his pajama pants. 

“I didn’t want to put the burden of care entirely on you,” Ezra said as Anthony sat on the sofa, a whole cushion between them. Ezra looked at that empty space, then up at Anthony. “You seemed to have had a lot on your mind as of late. I didn’t want you to lose more sleep.”

“Hard for me to lose sleep,” Anthony quipped with a barely-there turn of his lips.

“Still,” Ezra said. Then, as nonchalantly as he could, “Is there anything you wanted to talk about?”

“No,” Anthony said too evasively. “No, it’s fine. Just busy is all. Which reminds me, I need to go to London today.”

“Again?” Ezra frowned. “You don’t normally go to London this frequently. I think you’ve spent more time there than at the Tadfield shop.”

Anthony shrugged. “Got Anathema running things for me here while I try and get stuff sorted in London.”

“Right,” Ezra said, hating that Anthony wasn’t looking him in the eye.

“Should probably start getting ready,” Anthony said, getting back up. “Maybe we can do something different today? Bring the boys out for breakfast before school. Nothing big, you know.”

It might have been sweet, even considerate if the circumstances were different. 

“As opposed to just you and I?” Ezra pointed out carefully.

“Well, just a bit easier if I’m honest. Can drop you off at the school right after the boys and head right out on the motorway.”

Ezra watched Anthony turn back toward the stairs and head up.

If he were honest. Yes, Ezra quite wished he would be.

~C~

“So Ezra came by,” Anathema told him over the phone while he hunkered down in the office of his London shop. 

Crowley’s blood ran cold. “You didn’t-”

“Tell him anything?” Anathema asked. “No. But AJ? You’re scaring him.”

“I’m not scaring him,” Crowley grumbled as Bea returned with lunch, closing the door and sitting opposite of him. He leaned forward, peeking in the brown paper bag, and was a bit disappointed to see fish and chips again.

“AJ, I may not know Ezra as well I know you, but I know him. I know when he’s nervous he wrings his hand, and when he’s worried he stutters, and I have never heard him anything less than confident. Today he asked me if you’d mentioned anything about _him_ lately.”

“Don’t I always?” He asked as he reached in the bag and took out one of the paper-lined containers. 

“Not this last week, you haven’t.” Anathema retorted. “And the way he looked down at himself, I think he’s worried you’ve been trash-talking him or something. Like, maybe he was worried you mentioned how you wish he’d lose weight or change his style.”

“Why the fuck would I do that?” Crowley asked. Then, before Anathema could respond, added, “Look, everything's fine, okay? You’re just… you’re reading too much into it.”

“Gabriel was with him,” Anathema said as if it proved a point.

It didn’t, but it certainly had every muscle in Crowley’s body go taut.

“What?” He asked.

“Yeah, they came in together,” Anathema said. “Ezra was looking at flowers, and when I went over to say hi, well, he made sure Gabriel was out of earshot, but you know good ol’ Gabe. He didn’t stay away long.”

“Why was Ezra looking at-oh shit! What’s today?” Crowley said, shooting forward and scrambling for the terribly out of date desk calendar on the corner and knocking it over.

Bea and Anathema replied, “September 30th,” at the same time but with different tones. Bea was confused, with just a touch of disdain at Crowley’s behavior, Anathema like she was saying ‘I told you so’.

“It’s Liza’s birthday,” Crowley said, collapsing back in his chair and pushing his lunch to the side, suddenly not at all hungry. “I… I can’t believe... fuck. No wonder he didn’t sleep last night. Oh _fuck,_ Adam! Oh shit.” He hung his head and pulled on his hair, barely keeping himself from sobbing. “I forgot. I fucking forgot.”

“It’s been a long time,” Anathema said gently. 

“Yeah, but I… I have been… all week I’ve been trying to figure out how to get the good ones from here to Tadfield without those in Tadfield losing hours. I’ve been researching lawyers who might take our case against James’ firm, and just…. I haven’t….”

Bea smacked up upside the head with a fairly thick pad of paper (probably the toppled desk calendar), and he looked up to see them, scowling.

“I told you if you fucked it up with that man I would burn this place to the ground, don’t test me.” They said loud enough for Anathema to hear them.

“You tell him, Bea,” Anathema shouted, making Crowley pull the phone away from his ear and glared at it before bringing it back to his ear in preparation to tell her off. 

She beat him to it.

“Gabriel got flowers, just an FYI. And Ezra left with a couple of bouquets.”

“You didn’t char-”

“No, I didn’t charge Ezra, are you insane?” Anathema cut him off. She huffed, then continued. “I’m not sure if they were intending to go visit Eliza’s grave together, or….”

“Right, I’m heading back to Tadfield now. I need to smooth things over.” He reached in his pocket and pulled out his wallet, tossing Bea the cost of his lunch before stuffing it back in and getting up, grabbing his jacket. He hung up on Anathema, stuffing his phone in his pocket, and turned to Bea. “I-”

“You don’t have to worry about me,” They said. “We’ll figure out how to get the others out there.”

“I am going to worry about you, you were here from the beginning.”

“And I’m nauseated by your sense of loyalty,” Bea said with what one might call affection at a stretch. “But I’m more worried about the underlings. Which is something we can address after you save your relationship from falling apart.”

“Thanks,” Crowley grinned.

“I’m doing it for me,” Bea said as he headed for the door. “I dealt with the fallout from Ezra Fell before, and just hadn’t realized it. I won’t be doing it again.”

Crowley was about to retort and thought better of it. Instead, he left.

~A~

“Thank you, my dear fellow,” Ezra said as Gabriel pulled up to the secondary to drop Ezra back off. “I kept meaning to ask Anthony if he could bring a bunch home, but he’s been a bit absent lately.”

Gabriel didn’t react the way Ezra had expected, which Ezra had to give him credit for. 

“Busy with work?” Gabriel asked, a knowing tone and grin with it.

“Seems so,” Ezra said as he grabbed the paper bag with the wrapped flowers inside. “And I also want to say I appreciate you coming by to check on me.”

“It’s what friends do,” Gabriel said smoothly.

“Yes, but I know… well, you were never close to Eliza, I wouldn’t have expected you to remember her birthday.”

Gabriel studied him for a long moment, and just as Ezra was beginning to grow nervous, he said, “You’re doing better than I thought you would be.”

Ezra gave a chuckle, fake as it was. “Suppose I am,” he said. “I’ve had a lot on my mind the last week. And I’m aware Liza wouldn’t have wanted us to make a big fuss over it now that she was gone. As it is, she’s probably somewhere rolling her eyes, going on about how she’s not around to enjoy the flowers anyway.”

Gabriel snorted. “Yeah.” He nodded. “Well, if you want me there later, give me a call. I can meet you all there.”

“I don’t even know if Anthony intends to bring us there. I think I may just excuse Adam and I for a while and head to the cemetery just him and I.”

“Well, if you do decide to make it the two of you, call me anyway. I’ll drive you two, wait in the car.”

“That’s very kind of you,” Ezra acknowledged. “I’ll consider it.” He added as he began to get out of the car. 

“Later, sunshine,” Gabriel said, and Ezra waved again, heading back inside the school to finish out his day.

~*~

He was genuinely surprised to see the Bentley waiting for him when he left the building at the end of the day. It hadn’t been that prompt all week, always a little later than Anthony usually was.

A part of Ezra was overwhelmed and flooded with affection. The other was deeply, painfully suspicious.

He made his way to the car, smiling as the boys smiled and waved at him, then climbed inside.

Anthony tossed him a casual grin, then turned the engine, beginning the process of leaving the school grounds while there were still so many others being picked up.

“Where are we going?” He asked, tapping the fancy GPS built into the car.

Ezra frowned. “What do you mean?” He asked.

Anthony glanced at him nervously. “Where is she?” He asked softly, and everything clicked.

“Anathema told you about the flowers,” Ezra realized. He’d put them in his briefcase before leaving the school, the moisture from the ends having dripped out of the wax-lined paper and ruining the paper bag. 

“Yeah,” Anthony admitted a little clipped. “Sorry. Didn’t realize the day….”

“It’s fine, dear,” Ezra replied automatically and hated himself for it. The boys fell silent in the back, their quiet chit chat stopping altogether. Flustered, Ezra reached forward and typed the address in rather than saying it. “You and Lock can stay in the car if you want. Even Adam, if he doesn’t want to.”

“If I don’t want to what?” Adam asked.

Ezra swallowed the lump in his throat. “Leave flowers on mum’s grave,” Ezra said over his shoulder, barely turning. “It’s something people do.” He added before he could be asked why.

“Alright,” Adam said softly but not sadly. He and Warlock exchanged a worried look, and it splintered Ezra’s already weakening heart.

He sighed, hoping some of the tension that had been building would escape with it. It didn’t.

This whole thing was getting out of hand, seeing as how now it was affecting the boys’ lives before knowledge of what any of this way even came to the forefront. There was a wall going up between him and Anthony, and if the look the boys shared was anything to go by, they were definitely beginning to feel it, too.

“I’ll be there with you, angel,” Anthony said softly, affectionately, and that lump in Ezra’s throat choked him. He cut off the sob before it escaped, and looked at Anthony with tear-filled eyes, seeing the regret in the serpentine eyes too plainly for it to be mistaken.

“Will you?” Ezra asked all the pain, and anger, frustration and heartache, and that small bit of hope buried underneath it all coming out.

Anthony’s knuckles flashed white, the leather of the steering wheel creaking a moment beneath his palm. He swallowed, and nodded, but didn’t pull his eyes away from the road.

Ezra nodded as well, then looked out the window the rest of the way to get himself under control.

~*~

Gabriel had left flowers. 

It was as touching as it was strange, though Ezra had wondered if that’s why Gabriel had made the purchase. He’d hoped it was for a date, but it seemed hopes weren’t being made reality these days.

Adam laid down one of the bouquets and tilted his head as he studied the tombstone.

“Do you think mum knows we’re doing this?” He asked. 

Before Ezra could reply, Anthony said, “Your papa and mum used to leave flowers for their dad on his birthday. It’s just a sort of tradition, whether the person who you're giving them to know about it or not.”

Ezra got on one knee and laid down his flowers next to Adam’s. “I think she knows. And I think she thinks us silly for doing it, which is all the more reason we should.” He said to Adam who smiled a little at the prospect of bugging his mum. Ezra then looked back to the stone, seeing the words etched in, but only really able to focus on Eliza’s first name. “Could I have a moment?” He asked without turning around or looking at the rest of them.

“Course,” Anthony said. “Let’s give papa some space, alright?” He said, and Ezra listened to them moving away. 

He gave a shuddering sigh, then smiled at the stone, “What I wouldn’t give to have you here with me now.” He told it. “I may have teased you relentlessly about your dating habits, but you knew what you wanted, what you deserved, and never accepted anything less.” He looked at his feet, at the flowers lining her stone. “I’d like to think that means you’d tell me to simply tell him how all this is worrying me. I’d like to imagine… well, in a world where you are here with me now, you’d have brought Warlock home with you, and forced us to work it out. But a world with you still in it would have been so vastly different there’s really no telling if I would still be where I am with him. If I’d even have him at all.”

Ezra thought he should be tearful, talking about all this to the grave of his sister, but it was actually strangely cathartic. He furrowed his brow, wondering at that, a vivid image of Eliza rolling her eyes at him, shaking her head and probably punching him in the arm flitting in his head. Because she wouldn’t want him to still be sad this long, and he was aware.

“I can almost hear you telling me to ‘buck up’, though perhaps not in those words.” He grinned. “I should take a page from you, shouldn’t I? I do recall there was a moment with Gavin where you wanted to know where things stood. I remember because I had a stack of essays that needed to be graded, which is quite hard to do when you have a three-year-old quite eager to play Candy Land for the hundredth time.” He waited a moment, collecting his thoughts. “I think I have been talking to air and limestone for long enough.” He stood, and almost as though she had been listening, he found himself resolved to settle this before it went too far, and Oxford happened all over again.

~C~

They’d moved down the stairs after tucking the boys in bed, and Crowley was trying to think how he was going to try and mend what he’d done in his forgetfulness. Ezra wasn’t distant, but there was something there on the fringes that Crowley had noticed during their evening meal, and again in the cleanup, and the normal nightly routines. 

As they reached the bottom, Ezra moved to the living area. He stopped a bit away from the bookshelves and the record player as if trying to decide what he wanted to select for the evening first.

Crowley remained at the end of the stairs, glancing in the kitchen, then down the small hallway to where his office and the second bathroom was. He looked to Ezra again, seeing him still standing there, and then glanced at the hallway. 

“Don’t,” Ezra said, firm but not loud, and Crowley stiffened. He watched his fiance, but Ezra didn’t move. “I would much rather you don’t go down the hall tonight.”

“Understandable.” Crowley conceded though he wasn’t sure what to do. He opened his mouth a few times, but no words came out.

Ezra took a deep breath, “Anthony,” He said in a way that Crowley didn’t like at all. “Do you regret this?”

Crowley blinked, his mouth still moving soundlessly but now for a different reason. His brow drew together as a deep frown took over. “What?” He said, perhaps a bit louder than he should.

Ezra turned to face him then, the line of his mouth grim, his eyes glimmering but hard. His hands were not fidgeting but in fists at his sides, head held high, shoulders straight. 

“I’ve come to realize that perhaps we may have jumped the gun.” He began. “Barely back into each other’s lives, and suddenly we’re engaged to be married. Admittedly a dream of mine in my youth, however different it may have been back then, but one nonetheless.”

“Angel,” Crowley began, hating the flinch in Ezra when he said it. He just wished he knew why it was there. “What have I done?” He asked quietly.

Ezra looked him over. “Is there someone else?” He asked a bit of a quiver to his voice this time.

“No!” Crowley said loudly, his body sprung into action to actually move closer to Ezra. He sensed touch wouldn’t be welcomed, so he kept his distance, but only enough to stop an errant hand from reaching out until whatever was happening stopped. “Why would you… did Gabriel say something?”

Ezra’s eyes narrowed. “Gabriel said not a word about you today, though I can’t say I feel very good that he knows something I don’t.”

“He doesn’t. ‘S why I wondered if he said anything. Where else would you get the idea that I’m seeing someone else?”

“You’ve been off since last week. Late more than on time, secretive.”

“It’s not like that.” Crowley attempted to assure. “I swear on-on-on the _boys_ that I am _not_ having an affair with anyone. And I certainly don’t regret rushing into this, as you say. I have one regret when it comes to you, and we’re both aware what that is.”

Ezra held his eye a moment after Crowley stopped speaking, and then he nodded once, looking at the floor and then away to the windows. 

“So what is it?” He asked.

“It’s nothing,” Crowley replied immediately.

“Well, nothing has changed an awful lot about us very quickly, then.” Ezra retorted bitterly.

“Nothing you need to worry about.” Crowley amended.

“Well if it’s nothing I need to worry about, then why not share your burden with me regardless?” Ezra countered. “This may come as a shock, given the shining example you were given growing up, but that is the point of a marriage. It’s not just love, it’s partnership. We need to lean on one another.”

“Oh, so you going to get flowers with Gabriel-” Crowley started defensively, but Ezra cut him off.

“I had told you last night that I was planning on going to the Garden on my lunch today, but evidently you weren’t paying attention.” He said, growing tense again. “I had hoped, of course, that you would have been in town, so we could have had lunch together ourselves, but you weren’t. You went to London, so I had to ask Gabriel who happened to still be here as he recalled the date and thought maybe I might want some support.”

“I bet he did,” Crowley grumbled.

“Don’t start, Anthony,” Ezra growled, and Crowley swallowed, wishing his stupid brain would stop his stupid mouth from saying stupid things. This was _exactly_ how they stopped speaking for ten years, and he needed to take a breath.

So he did. He turned away from Ezra and took a few deep, calming breaths before he had himself back under control.

“I’m sorry,” he began, meeting Ezra’s eye. “I’m sorry I’ve been busy, I’m sorry I forgot the date, I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you when I should have been.”

Ezra blinked twice before he said, “I forgive you.” There was a long stretch of silence that wrapped around them, holding them in place, and Crowley was loathed to figure out how to fill it and let it leave them be.

“But that doesn’t change what’s happening,” Ezra spoke first, less guarded and less angry than he’d been the rest of the conversation. “I don’t know what’s going on, but you must know I will be by your side. I won’t leave you if it’s not what you want. Heaven knows I’ve spent enough of my life without you to know I would rather only have a small bit of you than none.”

“I want you in my life,” Crowley said as emphatically as possible, finally feeling as though he could close the distance between them, take Ezra’s right hand in both of his and hold on. “I want you with me, beside me, in my home and my bed and my everything. I don’t want to slow down or step back. I don’t want you to leave.”

“I believe you,” Ezra assured. “But that doesn’t change that something is keeping you from me. This relationship, our marriage, will go much more smoothly if you would just tell me what’s bothering you instead of keeping it to yourself, and letting it come to blows like this.”

“There’s nothing you can do about it.” Crowley attempted to soothe, but Ezra just shook his head.

“How do you know if you don’t tell me?” He challenged.

And he was right, of course, he was right. But the only outcome Crowley could see was one where Ezra walked away. Damned if he told him, damned if he didn’t. He closed his eyes and swallowed, the sting of tears prickling against his lids, because this was it, wasn’t it? 

He took a breath and braced himself. 

“James knows about us, not like I was keeping it a secret.” He said, his lips twitching up momentarily. He opened his eyes but wouldn’t look at Ezra. “He demanded I call off the engagement.”

“Alright,” Ezra said softly. “But… you’ve never cared what James thought.”

“No, I didn’t.” Crowley agreed. “And I still don’t. But, see… he apparently always suspected I wasn’t his but was willing to hold on to me, keep the charade because I… I was successful and a father. I wasn’t a complete embarrassment to his family name. Until I decided to marry a man.” He paused, closing his eyes again. “Now he’s suing for the inheritance back, except he doesn’t want money - which I could, in theory- give him. He wants The Garden. He wants what the money bought me. He wants his share, which will ultimately lead to… all of it.”

There was too long of silence, and something about the weight of Ezra’s hand in his changed. Crowley opened his eyes and looked at his love, watching as Ezra processed what he’d said with slowly dawning horror.

“He's suing you because of me.” He whispered, his voice broken and his blue eyes beginning to well. 

“No, he’s suing me because he’s a homophobic asshole who hates that I have his name, and wants to punish me.” Crowley countered.

“Say it how you like, Anthony, it doesn’t change he’s doing this because I asked you to spend your life with me,” Ezra said as he pulled his hand from Crowley’s grip, stepping back, shaking his head. “I can’t-”

“Don’t.” Crowley took a step toward him, but Ezra flinched back.

“But how can we go through with this if it’s going to cost you everything!?” Ezra demanded plaintively, the tears spilling from his eyes down his cheeks. “This is your livelihood, your passion. You worked so incredibly hard, sacrificed so much of your time - while raising Warlock on your own- to make that business thrive. You will lose everything, Anthony, everything. I can’t-”

He shook his head and looked away.

Crowley stared at him, his heart beating madly in his chest. “You said you wouldn’t leave me if it wasn’t what I wanted. You said that not five minutes ago.” He protested.

“Because I love you more than I hate that you keep things from me,” Ezra told him, facing him once more. “Because you are my best friend, and you will always be the absolute love of my life. But how can I marry you when I know it will cost you far more than I’m worth?”

“You are worth everything,” Crowley said as he reached for Ezra again, snagging him before he could step away, pressing his forehead to Ezra’s to keep him looking at him.

“I’m not worth this,” Ezra replied, his head shifting from side to side. “I haven’t given you anything wor-”

“You gave me you.” Crowley interrupted. “And Adam. And a future that I thought was gone the moment I got back on the train from Oxford to London. You said when you proposed that you wouldn’t wish away our time apart, because it gave us - _us_ \- Warlock. I wouldn’t wish it away either, but I can’t tell you how much I wish it shortened.” He said, his own tears falling now. But this had to be said. He had to say it because it may be the only thing that will keep him from losing his angel all over again. “I lost you once from my own stupidity, I will not lose you again to the man who raised me. If he takes everything, so be it. I will work to the bone, do whatever I have to do to start again. We may find ourselves back in that little flat above the bookshop, but as long I am with you, I don’t give a damn.” He cupped Ezra’s face in both hands, pulling back to look him in the eye. He was bolstered by the utter hope, love, and longing that shone back through the tears. “Do you hear me, Ezra Fell? You are worth everything to me. You, Lock, Adam, you are all I need for the rest of my life. Because I love you. I love you, and I love our sons, and he can’t take that away, and I won’t let him try.”

Ezra shook his head. “You stupid man.” He said before grabbing Crowley by the shirt and pulling him against him, kissing him hard enough that Crowley thought he saw stars for a moment. 

They stayed like that for a while, apologizing and forgiving one another with every brush of their lips. Promising to do better, be more open with every gentle touch of a hand on skin or in hair. 

Crowley was beginning to wonder why he hadn’t said anything from the beginning because suddenly the burden _was_ lightened. Ezra was there, he really didn’t have to do this all on his own anymore. 

“We will find a way,” Ezra said when they broke for air, pressing his forehead to Crowley’s and making him smile like a fool. “I’m not sure, how but we will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is still in 2019, and it will have a massive amount of fluff, domesticness in it.  
> Until then!
> 
> Chapter title from "As the Crow Flies" by Clare Bowen and Sam Palladio (Nashville Cast)


	33. Let Me Be the One You Call

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's much, much lighter than the last chapter

**2019**

For a day that was so utterly awful, so ripe with questions and uncertainties, the night was beautiful.

They had gone upstairs after many tear flavored kisses, and found themselves quietly and gently entwined. And after they’d come down they entwined once more. Legs and fingers hooking together, touching where they could.

And they talked.

Well, Anthony talked, and Ezra listened.

Ezra kept his reactions as small as possible as Anthony began to weave the tale of how he believed James Crowley had found out about their engagement. About the lunchtime confrontation, and the quiet calm before the storm that made Anthony temporarily forget all about the threat. Ezra soothed him when he explained his long hours. Of how he was trying to at least get some of the staff to the Tadfield location in hopes that maybe he’d be able to keep that location, and therefore keep the staff he’d known and was most loyal to should James win.

“Which he likely will.” He said not for the first time. “I just… I knew you would want to leave.”

“I wouldn’t have left, not completely,” Ezra said in a hushed tone, stroking his thumb over Anthony’s cheek. “I’d have perhaps asked Marjorie to keep the flat open, paid rent there for another year, made it look on paper as though we were no longer living together. And, if need be, I would… well, I just wouldn’t….”

“You wouldn’t have married me.” Anthony filled in the blanks. 

“No,” Ezra managed to confess. “I would have stayed in the shadows so James would be satisfied, and you would be able to keep the Garden.”

Anthony stole a half dozen pecks on Ezra’s lips before he said anything.

“We’re not kids anymore, angel. I don’t need you to keep your distance so ‘daddy dearest’ won’t get the wrong idea.” He furrowed his brow. “Nothing would have gone back the way it was. Mum still left him, James still knew for certain he wasn’t my father, and I had known the whole time. Which, really, is sort of the point of all this. He’s not my dad, he never was, and he wouldn’t keep pretending to be. I can’t let him keep finding ways to ‘keep me in line.’ I just… I wish I knew what to do. If he’d be willing just to buy the damn thing outright, but that’s not a good idea, I don’t think. Wouldn’t know, can’t find someone to work for me.”

An idea sparked in Ezra’s mind, brow furrowing slightly as it slunk in and took root. 

“You know, this actually means Tony doesn’t have to keep quiet about who he is anymore,” Anthony said, distracting Ezra. “Could tell Lock the truth, give him and Adam the grandpa they deserved.”

Ezra hummed in agreement, tucking his idea away for the moment to focus on Anthony and the moment they were in. “Adam doesn’t remember having a grandmother. He knows about my parents, obviously, but he doesn’t have memories of mum, and dad is sort of just this bloke Eliza and I used to mention from time to time.”

Anthony brushed his cheek, caressed it with his thumb. “I am so, so sorry I’d forgotten.” He apologized again.

“Darling, I promise, it’s alright.”

“It really isn’t, though.” Anthony countered. “I let you down. I let you down and bloody Gabriel was there.”

“And so were you at the end of the day.” Ezra reminded him. “It doesn’t matter to me what reminded you, what does matter is when it was brought to your attention you came to me.”

Anthony shook his head, limited as he was by the pillow. “I shouldn’t have lost myself in all this. Should have been more _here_.”

“You’re too hard on yourself.” Ezra chided.

“You’re not hard enough,” Anthony smirked. “You’re letting me off way too easy.”

“And how would my browbeating you over a simple mistake help at all?” Ezra asked softly. “It wouldn’t, not at all. You’ve been keeping all this suffering to yourself, and I wanted to help carry the burden, not make it worse.”

Anthony grinned and leaned in to press another kiss to Ezra’s lips. “Can’t believe I get to marry you.” He said sleepily. “Would do it tomorrow if I thought it would stop those silly thoughts of you not being worth it.”

Ezra hummed, pleased.

“You should sleep, my darling.” He told them as he watched Anthony’s eyes grow heavier. 

“So should you,” Anthony countered. “May not have been terribly present, but I know you’ve not been sleeping much.”

Ezra pulled him closer, feeling slender arms wrap more snuggly around him, and shut his eyes, not expecting to drift off any time soon.

~*~  
  


“Papa,” Adam’s voice cut through the fog of sleep.

Ezra grunted in reply, blinking open his eyes, then rolled his head to the side to see the boys frowning at him in confusion.

“Are you alright?” Warlock asked with great concern.

“Yes, perfectly well,” he replied with a sleep-heavy voice, rubbing at his eyes. “Why do you ask?”

“It’s nine o’clock,” Adam answered, and Warlock nodded wide-eyed. “You _never_ sleep that long.” 

Ezra frowned, stretching to the side and reaching for his phone, Anthony grumbling a little, sounding half awake. Sure enough, the time read 9:02 am on his screen, though thankfully it was Saturday. 

“Suppose I needed it,” Ezra said as he set the phone down. “You two go on downstairs, we’ll be along shortly.”

“Alright,” Warlock said, grabbing Adam’s arm and tugging him along.

Ezra watched them go, cringing when they happened to leave the bedroom door wide open.

“Anthony,” He said, soft but firm. “Wake up.”

Anthony grumbled. “What?”

“We left the door unlocked,” Ezra replied in a quiet, measured voice so the sound wouldn’t carry.

“Don’t we always?” he grumbled back.

“Yes,” Ezra said, “but we normally put our clothes back on before we fall asleep.”

That woke Anthony up, and he flipped around from where he’d ended up on his stomach so he could look down at their bodies, the blankets pooling at his waist as he sat up and looked them over.

He blushed. “Oh, that might have been not good.” 

Ezra chuckled, “It still might not be.” He said, gesturing to the wide-open door. “Do you have access to anything…?”

“Oh, shit, we left the lube out,” Anthony said as he buried his face in his hands, his hair falling around his face.

Ezra couldn’t help but laugh at that, throwing his head back even as he felt horribly, terribly embarrassed at the prospect of being questioned by a pair of five-year-olds as to what the thing on dad’s nightstand was.

He felt something soft collide with his face and realized after a moment it was his sweater vest from yesterday.

“This isn’t going to help,” he said between giggles. 

“Know that,” Anthony snapped, “had to move it to get to your trousers, didn’t I.” He handed said trousers over to Ezra who slid sideways out of bed, putting his legs right in as he went and had them up and fastened. He then moved to the door, peeked out to make sure there were no little ones in the hallway, and then closed it, laughing again as he met Anthony’s eyes, seeing something happy in them for the first time in a week.

  
  


~C~

He went to work on a Saturday, mostly to help Anathema catch up on the orders that he wasn’t getting to because of the whole thing with the lawsuit. 

But there was a smile he hadn’t realized had been absent from Ezra’s face when they parted in the morning, and a kiss that seemed more loving, more everything than it had in the last week. 

“I’m not going to say I told you so,” Anathema said as they worked as a team on the finishing touches for an arch. 

“What would you have to say I told you so about?” Crowley asked, glancing at her as he fixed another Rose on the structure.

“I can tell, you know. That you told Ezra. Your aura’s a lot lighter.”

“Shut up,” Crowley smirked. “He dragged it out of me, the bastard.”

“And I’m taking it he’s not packed his bags and disappeared?” She said as she began wrapping lace around the structure. 

“No, he has not.” Crowley retorted, pausing as a wave of fear and nausea hit him. “He almost left again. He won’t say that’s what he would have done. Says he’d have just called off the wedding, maybe moved back out, but we know where that would lead.”

Anathema dropped the roll of lace and stood, wrapping her arms around him, pressing her head against his side as he remained on the step ladder. 

“He loves you,” She reminded him, though he didn’t really need it. “He’d have never stayed away for long.”

“Or he would have gone for maybe twenty years this time, hope maybe James would crock before then.” He sighed, patting her back, and Anathema let go. “But, he stayed. We worked it out. Bloody talking, who’d have thought.”

“I don’t know, normal people? Or maybe that’s just women.” Anathema said as she knelt down and resumed doing the lace. 

“Newt still not getting the hint?” Crowley asked.

It was Anathema’s turn to sigh. “He’s still not made a move or anything, though he knows Eric and I broke up. If I ask if he wants to do something, he’ll say yes. But he won’t ask me himself. And he won’t take my hand when we’re together, let alone anything more. But he’s interested, I know he is. I can sense it.”

“Maybe you just intimidate him,” Crowley shrugged and felt the ball of lace hit him on the side of the head. He looked down at Anathema who scowled petulantly at him. “You can look at me like that all you want. You’re intense, Anathema. Believe me, I like that about you, but I’m also not interested in you. I like that you know what you want, and you have the confidence to go for it, but I know a lot of blokes who aren’t even that forward. And you gotta remember, we come from money.”

“What’s that have to do with anything?” Anathema said as she collected the lace and kept going.

“It means we’ve had a certain amount of luxury that allowed us to be that confident and sure. We never had to demur to anyone to keep a job. Even when I was a gardener for that family, I was the _only_ gardener.”

“You still had a boss.” Anathema pointed out.

“She was my friend,” Crowley said absently.

Anathema stopped. “She?” She asked after a moment.

“Yeah, Harriet was the one who was around. She’d come by and chat while I worked in the flower beds when I’d do the hedges. Just someone to talk to, pair of lonely souls we were.”

He finished the roses, and as he glanced to see where the lace was, he noticed Anathema staring at him wide-eyed.

“What?” He asked.

“ _She’s_ Warlock’s mom, isn’t she,” Anathema said very, very quietly.

Crowley didn’t react fast enough.

“No,” He said.

“Yes, she is. I can tell.” Anathema said, putting her hands to her mouth. “Oh, my god. You… and with a married… does Ezra-?”

“Yes, he knows,” Crowley growled in a whisper. “Now keep your mouth _shut._ I have enough problems right now, I don’t need someone overhearing us and deciding to go on a little hunt. I only have my suspicions as to how James found out, I don’t know for sure.

Anathema continued to stare at him, stunned, so Crowley took the lace from her and finished up the arch before the delivery driver came by to pick it up with the rest of the wedding order.

“I have questions.” Anathema finally managed to say.

“I’m sure you do.” Crowley countered, moving to the work table where the order slip was, ripped a copy from the book, and returned to gently pin it to the arch.

“I’m not going to ask them. Yet, or at least here. But… holy shit, how did I not know this about you?”

“Because I can’t, or at least shouldn’t, talk about it.” Crowley retorted. “Now, we _were_ talking about you and Newt. And I was making a point, and my point is Newt didn’t come from a place of being well off. He came from a working-class family, single mum, all that. He’s quiet and shy, and you’re not. You’re unattainable to him, even when he has you. So… make yourself attainable. Talk to him, tell him what you want. I’d say make a move, but you’ve done that already.”

“Talking from experience, are you?” Anathema asked.

“Might take some flowers home for Ezra,” Crowley avoided the answer. “Sorta saying-”

“Sorry I was an ass, oh loving spouse of mine?” Anathema smirked. 

“Yeah, something like that.” Crowley snarked back. “Now, what else do we have?”

~*~

“Oh,” Ezra said with delighted surprise as Crowley showed him the bouquet of purple hyacinths, red roses, and a few sprigs of ivy. “They’re lovely, darling. Thank you.” 

Crowley kissed his cheek then moved for a vase in the cupboard over the fridge. “Where are the boys?” He asked curiously, getting the vase and heading for the tap to fill it with water.

“They’re upstairs. In Adam’s room or Warlock’s, I’m not sure, they’ve been going back and forth. Last time I went up they were discussing pirate aliens, and what their ship would look like.” He said as he continued to cook the simple meal he’d been preparing as Crowley had come home.

He paused as he brought the flowers to the table and took it all in, understanding that he’d been close to losing this all from not opening up a little more. Of the idea of their boys upstairs playing, and Ezra doing little domestic things while waiting for him to come home. Of how later he’ll help clean up, and they’ll go back to that routine he’d so carelessly tossed aside to drive himself mad with worry, bury himself in a problem he couldn’t work out.

“I love you,” Crowley said simply, watching as Ezra gently tapped the wooden spoon on the side of the pan before turning to face Crowley with a little wrinkle in his forehead. Crowley grinned. “I just wanted to say it. That I love you.”

“I love you, too, darling,” Ezra said, eyes crinkling, sparkling with a deep fondness that Crowley had suddenly realized had always been there. “How was work?” Ezra asked as he turned back to dinner preparation.

Crowley placed the flowers in the vase and went to join him, leaning against the counter.

“Caught up and then some,” he replied. “Pleased to say that, means I might get to go back to London this week and talk more with Bea. Trying to convince them that if they're not going to leave for here, then they should at least take over a more managerial role.”

“When do you think you’ll be going to London?” Ezra asked curiously, shutting off the stove and opening the oven to check on something that smelled wonderfully savory.

“Umm, Tuesday, I think. Works best, gives me a chance to see what they have from over the weekend, what I might be able to take back to Tadfield with me to work on.”

“What a coincidence,” Ezra said as he pulled a pan from the oven and set it on an empty spot on the stove. “I happen to have a workshop in London on Tuesday.”

Crowley watched Ezra with narrow eyes, but he was utterly sincere. “You just _happen_ to have a workshop on Tuesday. What workshop?”

Ezra met his eye with a tilt of his head. “The modernization of Shakespeare in the classroom. New ways to get students interested in the bard’s work. It sounds thrilling.”

“And when did you find out about this?” Crowley asked.

“Earlier in the week,” Ezra replied. “I had thought that, if you weren’t going to London on Tuesday, and weren’t able to give me the lift, I could have asked Gabriel. I’m sure he would’ve been willing.”

“Sure he would be,” Crowley grumbled.

“Oh, do stop, Anthony. He was how I was able to attend those workshops prior to your returning to my life. They don’t tend to have many in the last months of school, you see.”

“And where’s this workshop in London, exactly?”

“It’s in a meeting room at one of the Hilton’s. I’ll give you the address, presuming you’ll take me.”

Crowley gave him a wicked smirk.

Ezra rolled his eyes. “You’re impossible. And absolute menace. You knew _precisely_ what I meant when I said that, and yet here you are turning it into something… unseemly.”

“Unseemly?” Crowley repeated, barely keeping himself from laughing.

“Behavior wise, yes. The act itself… hardly.” He replied with a light brush and a slight upturn of his lips.

Crowley snagged his arm around Ezra’s waist and brought him closer. “I will take you to London.” He said as maturely as he could. “And tonight, if you’d like, I can-”

“Dad!” Adam and Warlock shouted as they came off the stairs, and Crowley blushed at nearly being overheard saying all the things he was about to say to Ezra.

He still hadn’t gotten over the mortifying ordeal of having their room and themselves in the state it was in when the boys came to wake them up that morning. Thankfully, neither had asked any questions about it, because Crowley wasn’t sure he’d have lived through any sort of explanation that could have been given.

He turned, listening to the boys as they relayed their day while Ezra got their food on plates. 

~A~

“Are you nervous?” Anthony asked with a frown as they left the motorway and headed into the city. 

Ezra smiled through the guilt and glanced at Anthony. “Perhaps a bit.” He confessed. Then added, “I don’t do these terribly often, and I don’t tend to fit in with the others.”

Also not a lie, really. Ezra had tended to be awkward at workshops, his knowledge of most literature being a bit more in-depth than most of the others. He was also given various sorts of looks from his colleagues as they took in his form of dress, which didn’t vary much from his normal work dress or casual. But he wasn’t attending them for their social aspect.

Of course, he wasn’t attending a workshop at all.

Only Anthony didn’t know that.

“Will you be breaking for lunch?” Anthony asked with an inquisitive lilt. Maybe you and I can meet up.”

“That would be lovely,” Ezra replied, meaning it with his whole heart. “Do you have a certain time, or?”

“No, just shoot me off a message or call when you’re ready,” Anthony replied casually, and a bit more guilt seeped into Ezra.

He hated lying, hated keeping secrets, but he hoped that the secret wouldn’t be kept for long. And unlike what Anthony was doing, he wasn’t trying to keep him in the dark, he just didn’t want to get any hopes up. 

It made it very bittersweet when the Bentley pulled up outside the hotel Ezra gave the address to.

“I shall see you later, darling.” He said before leaning across the gap between the seats and kissing Anthony soundly, much like he would any other day.

And Anthony chased after another one. “I hadn’t realized until yesterday that I was missing these.” He said with a smirk.

“Hardly like we didn’t,” Ezra frowned. 

“Yeah, but I wasn’t really there for them,” Anthony explained. “It became more like a habit, which it is. But… but it was quick and without much thought or affection. Don’t want it to become a habit like that.”

“Then it won’t,” Ezra said simply, stealing one more. “I should get a wiggle on.”

Anthony smirked. “Right. Well, have a good day, angel.”

“See you at lunch, my dear,” Ezra said before getting out of the car, slowly making his way toward the entrance of the hotel. He made a show of pausing to check his phone as the Bentley drove away, waiting until he knew for absolute certainty that Anthony wasn’t anywhere near the building. 

He then pocketed his phone, turned around and, heading down the street and around the corner with purpose.

It was nearing ten in the morning, so many places of business would be open. He did wonder, for a moment, why Anthony hadn’t questioned the lateness in which this supposed workshop would have begun, but he supposed he should take the blessing for what it was. 

He approached the relatively modern building, made his way across the lobby to the lifts, and pressed the button for the top floor as he made his way inside. He wrung his hands, feeling the need to get most of the nerves out of him. It didn’t work terribly well. 

The lift chimed and stepped out, the office he wanted being immediately before him. He pushed open the glass doors and made his way over to the front desk.

A young woman turned toward him and paused. She took a second to look him up and down, then said, “welcome to Young, Marks, and Martin, do you have an appointment?”

“Of sorts,” Ezra replied. “I’m here to speak to Mr. Martin. Ezra Fell, he’s expecting me.”

The young woman smiled a condescending grin. “Mr. Martin is probably on the phone with a client. Unless you’ve scheduled an appointment-”

“You will find, madam, that if you were to go to his office and tell him Ezra Fell is here to see him, he will be quite prompt.” Ezra cut her off. “And while I do not have an official appointment, he _is_ expecting me.”

She rolled her eyes and got up from her chair, her heels clicking on the floor as she disappeared down a hallway to the left.

Ezra waited, looking around the bland, nondescript space. He could hear the sound of heels returning at a much quicker clip, and he smiled at the woman when she came back looking quite embarrassed.

“Mr. Martin says to go right on back.” She said with a gesture, barely able to look Ezra in the eye.

“Thank you,” he said with a quick bow of his head, and then followed her direction.

Most of the doors he passed were closed, so he had no difficulty finding the one he needed.

“Ezra!” Lucas greeted him with a wide smile and open arms. Thankfully he didn’t attempt a hug but took Ezra’s hand in both of his for a hearty handshake. “Good to see you.”

“And you,” Ezra said as Lucas stepped past him and closed the door. “You’re well?”

“I am, very well, actually. And you? The… Adam?” he asked a little nervously.

“We’re both fine,” Ezra assured him. “I actually came hoping your offer of ‘whatever I needed’ might extend beyond menial family affairs.”

“Oh,” Lucas said as he gestured for Ezra to have a seat before moving around to the other side of the desk and doing the same. “Sounds serious.”

“It is,” Ezra agreed. “I’m not sure what type of law you tend to practice, but I was hoping the least you could do was offer some advice. My fiance, Anthony-”

“Fiance!” Lucas crowed. “Oh, congratulations. You two were just seeing one another a few months ago. Shall I expect an invitation?”

Ezra’s eyebrows shot up. “Would… would you like one?”

“It’s what family does, isn’t it?”

“I suppose.” Ezra agreed.

“Excellent,” Lucas said with a clap of his hands. “Now, continue. What is happening with Anthony?”

Ezra took a breath and explained what he knew to Lucas. 

“I wish I had had the summons with me, but unfortunately I hadn’t a way of getting a hold of it without asking Anthony for it. And if I were to ask, he probably wouldn’t hand it over at all readily. He only just told me about it the night before I texted you to see if we could have this meeting.”

Lucas pursed his lips, tapped his finger against them. “You know, when I was younger, fresh out of law school, I had the greatest displeasure of being part of the firm that James Crowley utilizes. He was a bastard, an absolute nightmare, and one of the reasons I was quite eager to take up with my current partners when the position was offered.”

“I can’t say I blame you,” Ezra said. “I tended to avoid being anywhere near the man when we were growing up.”

“Given why he’s going after Anthony, the real base reason, we may be able to use that to our advantage. I’ll have to see the summons, what's the reason listed for why he’s suing, but it’s possible we may be able to find a workaround.”

Ezra grinned. “You’ll take his case?”

Lucas shrugged, “Why wouldn’t I? I said anything you need, Ezra, and I am a man of my word. And, frankly, having your fiance lose his means of income would certainly affect you and the boy, be a hardship, and that’s precisely the sort of thing I would like to help avoid.”

“Well, I appreciate it,” Ezra said wholeheartedly. “Truly. I might get an earful when I see Anthony at lunch, but I’m sure in the end he will understand.”

Lucas smirked, “As long as you tell him before I step in. Now, let’s see…” He said, leaning forward, grabbing an appointment book and dropping it on his desk before flipping it open. “I don’t have any spots available during the week. But, perhaps, I can go up to Tadfield this weekend, have a look, talk it over with both of you.”

“Would you be able to come to the house?” Ezra asked.

“You send me the address, and I’ll meet you there.”

“Wonderful. I won’t take up any more of your time.” Ezra said as he rose. “I’m sure you have a busy day ahead of you, and I appreciate you fitting me in.”

“It’s no problem at all,” Lucas said as he stood, walking Ezra out and to the lobby. “So Saturday, probably not until the afternoon.”

“I’m sure it will be just…” He pressed his lips together, making sure a ‘tickety-boo’ or ‘tip-top’ didn’t spill out. “Wonderful.” He managed to say before parting ways with Lucas and heading back out to the lifts.

He felt both lighter and yet much more weighed down as he crossed the lobby. A relief mixed with dread providing an interesting cocktail. There was only one way to set it right, and unlike a certain someone, he wasn’t going to wait nearly a week and have it dragged out of him. So, Ezra pressed the button for the first floor and braced himself for a walk to Soho.

~C~

“AJ,” Bea said as he finished up with a customer. “Your husband is here.”

“My what?” He asked with a frown, turning first to Bea and then to the door to discover that Ezra was, in fact, inside the Garden with a nervous smile.

Crowley stared for a few minutes, trying to figure out why his fiance would cross town to meet him at the shop instead of just texting. They couldn’t have terribly long lunches at workshops, especially when they start so late, and-

“Oh, you bastard!” He said as realization smacked him upside the head. It didn’t just catch Ezra’s attention, who turned that nervous smile on him with the eyes of a very guilty man, but a few customers who were suddenly on alert, wondering what was about to happen. “There was no workshop, was there?”

“Afraid not,” Ezra confessed, and while a few customers went back to browsing, the other, more nosy ones watched. 

“Why are you here, then? In the city?” Crowley asked as he crossed the space to Ezra, taking his hand. 

Ezra’s smile wavered. “I’m afraid you’re going to be rather cross with me, my dear.”

“How cross?” Crowley asked with a frown. “Are we talking mild annoyance where I’m going to hang it over your head for a week or so? Or are we talking ‘sleeping in the spare room for a while’ cross?”

Ezra paled. “Oh. Oh, I do hope it doesn’t come to the latter. I’m….” He glanced around the shop. “Perhaps we can speak about this in your office?”

“If you did something stupid enough to have him mope more,” Bea said with a warning, crossing their arms.

“I doubt there will be any moping,” Ezra assured. “Though I apologize in advance for the possible ranting and lamenting.”

Bea seemed to consider this a moment before nodding once and waving them off.

Crowley took Ezra’s hand and led him to the back, into his office, where he closed and locked the door. 

He took a moment to mourn the fantasies of this very act, of Ezra surprising him and them finding themselves locked in this very room before he turned toward his fiance and crossed his arms.

“First,” he began, “do you _actually_ go to workshops?”

“I do,” Ezra assured. “But they start far earlier in the day. I usually _would_ get a lift with Gabriel, as he would leave early enough for me to arrive on time.”

Crowley nodded, accepting this, wondering why he hadn’t clued in to the late start before.

“Right. Well, I’ll still give you lifts. Avoiding the knob and all.” He said. “But if you aren’t here for work or the knob, why are you in the city?” Then, with dawning horror, asked, “You didn’t go see James, did you?”

“What? Of course not!” Ezra said with a scowl. “What on Earth would have you believe I’d go see your- James? Not like the man would ever deign to see me. No, I… I went to see Lucas Martin.” Crowley puzzled at the name, feeling it linger on the edges of his mind but constantly being just out of reach. It must have shown on his face, because Ezra added, “Adam’s birth father.”

“Oh,” Crowley replied. “Okay, why? Was he needed because of the adoption, or?”

“No,” Ezra shook his head. “No, Lucas wouldn’t be needed, there is no record of him being Adam’s father anywhere. But, see… he’s a lawyer.”

Crowley had been nodding nearly as much as a bobblehead when what Ezra said hit home.

“Angel,” Crowley said, now shaking his head when he put together what was happening.

“Now, hear me out,” Ezra placated.

“Ezra, I could handle this.” Crowley lamented. “This is why I didn’t want to tell you. Well, one of the smaller reasons I didn’t want to tell you. You didn’t need to do this, you don’t need to fix my problems and save me.”

“I know that, you idiot.” Ezra snapped back with a little bite. “But you told me you couldn’t find anyone to take your case, and I didn’t see the harm in asking.”

“And I suppose you were laughed out of the office,” Crowley said with a glance at the clock. It was only just heading round to eleven, barely more than an hour since he dropped Ezra off.

“No,” Ezra replied, frowning. “Actually he intends to come have a look at the papers over the weekend.”

Crowley hummed, “Well, legal advice is better than nothing, I suppose.”

“He wants to be your lawyer, Anthony,” Ezra said as though he were slow.

“He does not,” Crowley replied childishly.

“He does,” Ezra said firmly. Then, with a slight smirk, added, “imagine if you had only told me a week ago when this all happened, all this stress could have been - if not avoided- then greatly minimized.”

“Suppose,” Crowley grumbled. Then he blinked. “Hold on. Wait, let me get this right: you went behind my back to our son’s birth father, to talk to him about my legal case against… my former father?”

“Yes,” Ezra said with a slight blush. 

“So, your whole spew Friday about me keeping things from you-”

“Now, hold on.” Ezra cut in, hands starting to flail.

Crowley suppressed a smirk, “No, no. You said we shouldn’t keep things from each other, that our marriage would work better if we talk.”

“There is a very large difference between you keeping something that affects our whole family close to your chest, with no intention of ever sharing, and my… making an arrangement with someone when I didn’t want to get your hopes up. Or have you say no, because heaven knows you’d have been too stubborn to go that route.”

“Oi,” Crowley scowled.

“Don’t ‘oi’ me, Anthony Crowley. I’ve known you since we were thirteen years old, I’m well aware of how patently unmovable you can be when you’re not fond of an idea.”

“Not stubborn,” Crowley grumbled, the fight already leaving him. He didn’t want to argue, even if he wasn’t exactly thrilled about what Ezra had done.

By the smile Ezra gave him, he knew that. It was as cautious as it was affectionate, and when he stepped forward, he seemed hesitant to touch Crowley’s cheek.

“You are stubborn, darling. But sometimes I think it’s your stubbornness that kept us at each other’s sides in our youth. And I am sorry that I didn’t tell you my real intentions for coming here, but I truly didn’t wish to give you any hope if I couldn’t secure it.”

“You shouldn’t have had to secure it for me in the first place,” Crowley replied, his hands finding Ezra’s hips. “This is my problem.”

“It’s ours by virtue that we are a couple.”

Crowley pressed his forehead to Ezra’s. “This? What you’re doing? The worrying and taking time away from your job to try and fix this? This is one of the reasons I didn’t tell you. A much smaller reason, mind, but one of them.”

Ezra hummed in acknowledgment but said nothing.

“So,” Crowley said after a time. “How are you going to repent?”

“Repent?” Ezra repeated incredulously.

“I believe I did a fair bit of worshiping to make up for my transgressions.”

“Yours was far greater, and for far longer.” Ezra countered, leaning away. “How about I buy you lunch?”

“Is that all I’m going to get?” Crowley asked, teasing just a bit.

Ezra tilted his head slightly. “For now.”

“Suppose it will do.” Crowley sighed, “but I expect a more thorough apology later.”

“If I must,” Ezra smirked a moment before sobering. “I am sorry for having kept my plans from you, love. Perhaps it may have had a touch of petty revenge within the action, but it was never my aim to hurt you.” 

“Not hurt, angel,” Crowley assured as he stepped away. “Miffed, put out, a little annoyed, but not hurt. And not angry.” 

He took Ezra’s hands, but Ezra shifted within them, taking Crowley’s in turn and bringing Crowley’s knuckles to his lips. 

“Now,” he said, giving Crowley’s hands a squeeze. “I can wait here if it’s too early.”

“Might as well go now,” Crowley said. “But it means a lot longer between lunch and when I can knock off. What will you do while you wait?"

Ezra pondered as Crowley led him out the door.

“Perhaps I’ll go see Richard and Isabel.” He said as they headed down the hall, back into the main store. “They don’t live terribly far from here, and maybe I’ll get lucky and Oscar will be around as well.”

Crowley waved to Bea, glancing around the shop as he and Ezra exited when he noticed someone familiar placing an order with Eric. He frowned, taking in the man when he heard the bloke say “Crowley” when prompted for the name of the order.

Then he remembered, that was the same bloke who had been in a few weeks back when he’d bought Ezra his ring. When he’d shown Bea.

Crowley very nearly stormed over, demanding the man be removed from the premises, but Ezra’s hand on his stopped him.

“Everything alright?” Ezra asked softly, and Crowley grit his teeth.

 _Not worth it_ , he thought. _Not worth it at all_.

“Fine,” he said before turning back to Ezra. A flash of hurt and understanding came with his angel’s quick smile, and Crowley shook his head. “Tell you on the way to lunch,” he amended, then led the way. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Our next chapter sends us back in the past. Kudos to the peeps who remembered Lucas! It feels like forever ago that I set that up.  
> Until next time!
> 
> Chapter title from "Crash and Burn" by Savage Garden


	34. I've Come As Close As I Can Get

**2016**

“Move out,” Eliza said by way of greeting, which had Ezra frowning up from his book.

“I beg pardon?” He asked, glancing around the living room of the flat, not seeing anything out of sort that might prompt his sister to make such a declaration.

Adam was doing a puzzle on the floor, but that was the only toy out. There was soup on the stove, simmering, and while he wouldn’t touch her laundry for anything, he had been courteous enough to wash Adam’s. 

Eliza dropped her messenger bag by the sofa, her need to state those two words having been so great she hadn’t even removed her winter gear. There was still snow in her hair as she plopped down on the sofa next to him.

“Your boyfriend-”

“Boyfriend?” Ezra interrupted, though she ignored him.

“Cornered me at the market to ask if you’d mentioned maybe taking him up on that offer of a weekend at his place. Or, perhaps, if you thought of maybe going away on February break. Or perhaps Easter, because he would like to make sure he has the week off so you can go together.”

Ezra cringed. 

He’d already had a second discussion with Gabriel over how the night in the hotel wasn’t meant to be anything more than just that: a night. He explained, a few different times now, that he really didn’t want anything more than a friendship with him, and that there wouldn’t be any repeats. He wasn’t entirely sure he meant that which might be why Gabriel still peppered in the occasional hints or offers for more.

He’d moved into the house he’d bought mid-October, and in the three months that followed he tried to get Ezra to do something with him every weekend. He’d gone so far once (and thankfully only once) as to “happen” by Ezra with Adam on a meet up with Oscar and Richard in London. It was Richard complaining how stalking was so unbecoming that had made Gabriel realize that maybe he’d crossed a line there somewhere.

Cornering Eliza was something new, and frankly just as embarrassing.

“Exactly how good are you in bed?” Eliza asked with a frown, and Ezra’s jaw dropped, his cheeks burning. “It’s a legitimate question, given that one night and he’s following you around. Are you a secret Casanova?”

“Do you even know what that means?” He asked her with a touch of condescension. 

“I didn’t mean in the exact, literal sense.” She scowled. “But I do have to wonder.”

“I can’t believe I’m talking to you about this, but no. To my knowledge, I’m a fairly average lover. Gabriel is just a bit persistent in his want for more than I’m willing to give him.” He sighed. “But if it’s affecting your life, and you would like me to move out-”

“No,” Eliza huffed, shedding her coat so it pooled around her on the sofa cushion. “Frankly, I’m loath to give up free childcare.”

“You make it sound like I don’t work.” He smirked.

“Well, you know what I mean.” She waved him off. 

“I do,” Ezra conceded. “But… maybe it’s time.”

“Not yet,” Eliza said, grabbing his hand and squeezing it. “I don’t want you to leave yet, please? Especially if you’re only going to go to that knob’s.”

“I have no intention of ever living with Gabriel Haven,” Ezra said with conviction. “If there was a way I could go back in time and prevent myself from taking him to bed, I would.”

“No bed, no tired,” Adam said without looking up from the puzzle.

Eliza’s mouth contorted as she tried not to laugh, Ezra blushing once again. That, unfortunately, had her breaking any control she had on her laughter, and it spilled out in peels.

“Ez,” She said when she got control of herself. “We’ve all made a questionable decision like that. It just happens yours is a bit too in love with you to simply let it be. That said, don’t beat yourself up over it, alright? If he wants to make a commitment out of a fling, let him. He’s only hurting himself in the long run.” She smiled. “But don’t think I won’t let it go anytime soon. The amount you’ve needled me over the years, this is my one and only time to get back at you with the same sort of teasing.”

“But you can’t do it in front of anyone else,” Ezra warned. “The less people to ever know, the better. Bad enough you gossiped to Marjorie.”

“Yes, well, Marjorie is too excellent of a gossip to not be rewarded with an excellent tidbit in return. That and I had hoped she may put the wanker off.” Eliza confessed before getting up, collecting her jacket. “What’s for tea, anyway? Smells marvelous.”

And Ezra watched her go with a fond smile and a touch of heartache.

Maybe she didn’t want him to leave today, or tomorrow. And maybe he wasn’t ready to give up this strange sort of family life, but he would have to eventually. 

~C~

Crowley scowled at the numbers, looked away, then scowled at them again.

Something was wrong. Somewhere along the way he’d forgotten something, he had to have. Even if his accountant assured him that, no, he hadn’t. Everything was accounted for, he should really stop worrying and start being much, much happier. Most businesses didn’t turn this kind of profit in a year and a half. And it _had_ turned a profit. A fucking fantastic one, if he did say so himself. Wedding bookings were getting out of hand, really, and people were flocking to him from out of town because they didn’t want to worry about the delivery, even though it was offered through the website, and not at an unreasonable cost either. He was developing a reputation, even if he hadn’t intended to. 

“I wanted them to be wrong, Lock, what does that say about your crazy ol’ dad?” He asked, glancing over his shoulder at the smiling toddler in the corralled off area of his office.

“Cwazy dada.” He repeated with a giggle that had Crowley beaming.

“Oh, what to do, what to do.” He lamented, putting a hand in his hair, ruffling and pulling it. 

He needed a second, bigger location. That’s what it came down to. They were running out of space to properly house what Crowley wanted to sell, what he wanted to provide or play about with. He had the profit, he’d looked so often at the projections, the current standings, the profit over last year, and they were well above where they were expected.

The biggest issue was he couldn’t afford the sort of space he would need in London.

Which meant going out of town, though that wasn’t a bad thing. But he didn’t know where, and that’s why he was hoping the report was wrong, so he wouldn’t feel he needed to make this decision. If there had been a thing they didn’t record, something that would have brought the profits and whatnot down, then he could just shrug and say “maybe next year”.

He toyed with the idea of maybe going back to his hometown. Tony and Chrissy were there, as were Neil and Terry for the time being. He liked the idea of being able to pop in and see them. But there were also all the people he used to know. He’d managed to run into Freddie twice more already, thought he saw Oscar once (and ran the other way), not to mention all the idiots he’d gone to school with. 

He hated that the one person, or maybe the people, he’d have loved to have run into he never crossed paths with.

That left him with nearly every other major spot in England for him to contemplate, and it was a bit overwhelming.

“Are you still staring at that shit?” Bea asked as they plopped down in the other seat, practically throwing Crowley’s coffee at him. They were much nicer in handing Warlock a cookie, something he dropped his toy truck to the floor for. It gave a nice, loud clang as it promptly became ignored.

“Yes,” He half snapped, wincing at the toy’s collision with the floor, and thankful it didn’t seem to be broken.

“Just pick a place, you idiot. You’re making this harder than it needs to be.”

“Easy for you to say,” Crowley grumbled, setting that report aside and pulling up another one. “According to this, the places that we ship to the most outside London is Nottingham, Tadfield, Swindon, and oddly Cardiff.”

“Open a store in Wales-” Bea began to threaten, but Crowley cut them off with a wave.

“I’m not opening a spot in Wales.” He grumbled. Looking now to the map on his phone. “I just… I don’t want to go far, so Nottingham is out. Tadfield and Swindon are so damn close to one another. I just… I don’t know.”

“Might help if you look at property first,” Bea grumbled.

“What are you doing back here, anyway?” He asked.

Bea shrugged. “On break.”

“Right,” Crowley said, checking his watch for the time despite his phone and computer being right in front of him. “Lunch. Should probably… feed my child.”

“I already did that.” Bea retorted, tilting their head toward where Warlock was currently finishing off his treat.

“I meant proper food, but that’ll hold him over at least. What do you think, honestly?”

“Honestly, I think you’re an idiot.” Bea retorted. “Look, unless you want to build from the ground up, you need to have a place to buy. And even if you do want to start from scratch, you’re going to need property. If there isn’t any for sale in either place, you’re fucked anyway. So stop being an idiot, and stop making it seem like you need to decide this right now.”

He sighed. “You’re right.”

“Of course I am,” Bea countered. “And I need you to get out there and work on some bloody corsages.”

“Right,” Crowley said, glancing at Warlock. “I’m going to start needing childminding, I think.”

“Just starting to think? How have you survived.” Bea smirked before getting up and leaving the office.

“Bea’s a bit of a ‘B’ aren’t they, Lock?” Crowley grumbled.

“B!” Warlock repeated happily around a mouth full of cookie, and Crowley might have giggled childishly.

  
  


~A~

Ezra had been to Gabriel’s home exactly twice since he moved in about nine months ago. Once to help him move things in because it’s what friends did for one another, and once a couple of months back because it was pointed out that he hadn’t returned since that first time.

He was walking up the drive after work to enter the house for the third time, just as nervous as he was the other two times. Because despite how much he wanted everything between him and Gabriel to return the way it was, the incident still lingered in the air between them like the scent of previously cooked food. Not something necessarily terrible, but something you also wished wouldn’t linger.

Gabriel, at least, had not really attempted to re-initiate the events that occurred in the hotel room when they _were_ alone together. There was no need to keep a great distance between them when they spent time together, and he hadn’t needed to stop any advances from the man. Though Gabriel didn’t exactly go back to keeping his feelings close to his chest.

Ezra wasn’t blind nor oblivious to the way Gabriel would look at him from across a table, or in the light of a museum. He may have been before, at least to some extent, but now that he knew what it looked like up close he saw it every time they were together. And he could tell on numerous occasions that Gabriel had _wanted_ to kiss him and was seriously considering making the move to do so. He never did, though, which Ezra was grateful for.

But this time might be different, as the circumstances were set up in such a way that any moment between them could possibly be viewed as “special.” He almost declined, but considering Gabriel wasn’t exactly invited to join him the following day, Ezra thought this was the best way to at least keep the peace, if not one of his very few remaining friends.

Plus, he’d brought wine. It wasn’t like alcohol had been part of the poor decision making back in the hotel room. And, Ezra had noted, it was the one form of alcohol that Gabriel indulged in the least, and usually limiting himself to a few sips from a glass.

It was also, perhaps, a small bit of fun to talk about the vintage when he knew Gabriel didn’t have a clue what he was talking about.

Ezra rang the bell, not feeling comfortable enough to just walk in like Gabriel insisted he could, and waited.

A woman opened the door.

“Oh,” Ezra frowned, looking up at the house, down in the drive at the car he certain was Gabriel’s, then back at the woman. “Ummm.”

“You must be Ezra.” She replied in an American accent.

“I must.” He replied, then shook his head to clear it. “I mean, yes, I am. Ezra Fell, and you might be?” He asked as he offered the woman his hand.

She giggled. “Oh, such a gent,” She said the word with a put-on air that made Ezra nearly physically cringe. “Gabby said you were exactly like one would picture an Englishman, but still.”

Ezra pursed his lips, then licked them while doing his damnedest not to smile. “Gabby?” He repeated as the woman stepped aside and waved him in.

“Yes, he’s just been going on about you for years. So glad we finally get to meet ya. Oh, where are my manners? I’m Gabby’s mom, Deena.” She turned around and surprised Ezra with a hug that thankfully only lasted a few moments. “Harry, it’s Ezra!” She said as she let go of Ezra and led him into the sitting room.

There was yet another stranger there and beside him a slightly wide-eyed Gabriel.

“Hello,” Ezra said, looking first to Gabriel and then to who he would wager was Harry.

“Ezra,” The man said as he stood, his voice as deep as Gabriel’s, perhaps even a touch more. “Heard a lotta ‘bout ya.”

“Oh,” He said, glancing at Gabriel. “I had no idea. I was also quite unaware that you were going to be visiting.”

“We surprised him,” Deena said with a grin. “Just got in today, and we came right here from that airport in London in a cab. Knew where the key would be because it was the same place we always kept it back home, and we came right in. Surprised him when he came through the door. Oh, I do hope we didn’t spoil any plans.”

“Actually, mother-” Gabriel started, but Ezra waved him off.

“None at all, I assure you.” Ezra beamed, looking between the two parents. “I believe it was merely dinner on the agenda this evening. Perhaps a glass of wine and a rousing discussion of some variety, probably relating to literature or theater.”

Deena grinned, clasping her hands together under her chin. “So glad to hear it. You’d swear the way Gabby acted that we were crashing some sorta date. Not your anniversary or anything, is it?”

“An anniversary would imply we’re partners,” Ezra said, doing his damnedest to mask his annoyance in front of the parents. He glanced at Gabriel, hoping to relay just how not pleased he was, but found him staring up at the ceiling as if asking for some benevolent god to save him. 

Deena dropped her hands, her smile falling as well, giving way to confusion. “You’re not? I swear Gabby said that you two’d been serious for quite some time.”

“Thought we were gonna have to talk him into makin’ a… well, suppose it wouldn’t be an honest man, would it? You offended by that? The idea of Gab makin’ an honest man outta you?” Harry asked with a deep frown.

 _Perhaps a bit_ , Ezra thought to himself.

Gabriel had said they were partners? For how long? How long has he been telling his family that he and Ezra were a thing? He hoped it had only been in the last year, though that just meant they had to have yet _another_ discussion on how Ezra was more than happy for Gabriel to see other people. 

Gabriel, at least, was blushing so badly he was almost glistening. This was punishment enough, for now, Ezra would wager.

“I wouldn’t be offended, no,” Ezra assured Harry kindly, putting his annoyance at Gabriel on hold. “But I’m afraid we’re _just_ friends, he and I. We have been for… goodness, how long has it been?”

“Twelve years.” Gabriel supplied automatically.

“Twelve years?” He repeated an edge of regret in his surprise. 

Twelve years meant that… well it was a bit of a reminder of how seven years had gone by without….

The curling smoke of sadness and guilt that came over him every May was trying hard to make the comeback now, a month past when it was allowed to. But Ezra didn’t let it take hold, he barely allowed it to come around the month before. Time was marching on, and while he wasn’t ready to let go, he was well past allowing his mistakes to haunt him.

“My, how the time flies,” Ezra said with as much of a smile as he could manage.

“So,” Deena said, amping up the cheer as if to chase away all the heaviness the moment had brought. “Wasn’t a date night, sadly, but was there a special occasion? Seemed like it might have been when we got in.”

“It’s Ezra’s birthday tomorrow.” Gabriel said, “So-”

“Oh, really? Well, happy birthday! How old if it isn’t too rude?” Deena asked, cutting off anything Gabriel might have added.

“It will be my thirtieth,” Ezra replied as he allowed Deena to lead him back into the kitchen. “I’ll be going out of town for the day, so I won’t be around for a proper celebration.”

“So you two decided to celebrate your birthday together tonight. Oh, that’s so sweet.” Deena said, smiling at Gabriel.

“Yes,” he said, “So if you’d like, I can point out some great restaurants around town.”

“Oh, Gabby, don’t be silly.” Ezra interrupted, smirking when Gabriel couldn’t seem to decide whether he should scowl or smile at being referred to by the nickname. “Your parents flew all the way here to see you.” Then, he turned to Deena, taking her hand and surprising her. “Parents are something to cherish. I lost my father quite young, and my mother only passed less than a year ago. I would _hate_ to get in the way of this valuable time together.”

Deena pouted sympathetically, patting Ezra’s hand. “You’re not in the way, dear. You stay, we’ll have dinner together like Gabby planned. Well, maybe not quite like he planned if the candles that were on the table when we arrived had much to do with it. And there’s flowers, somewhere. But no, if you want us to stay, we will, otherwise-”

“I would be _delighted_ to have you around.” Ezra smiled, glancing at Gabriel once again who now appeared both hopeful and defeated. “And maybe you can tell me all about what Gabby was like growing up.”

~*~

“They call him ‘Gabby’?” Oscar said between bouts of laughter, Richard still wheezing.

They were probably making a bit of a scene for the sort of restaurant they were in. Upscale, to be certain, but they were also likely not the loudest either.

Ezra had had a workshop that morning, one awfully late in the year, but nothing he couldn’t apply to his course when school resumed in September. And with Gabriel’s parents in town, he was able to decline the lift into the city, opting to take the train so he could read his book in peace on the way there.

Oscar and Richard insisted they take him out for dinner while he was in the city, and he was more than willing to oblige them. Eliza had promised there would be cake upon his return to Tadfield, and encouraged him (”For the love of God, Ezra, get a life.”) to stay in the city as long as he wanted so as not to feel rushed.

“Eliza didn’t stop giggling for about thirty minutes when I told her,” Ezra said, snickering behind his champagne flute. “I swear she’ll be calling him that every time she sees him now. Which will go a long way in assisting him, perhaps, keeping some distance between us for a while. That, and I think he’s hoping the photo of him with unflattering glasses and neon jumper will fade from my memory if he doesn’t pester too much.”

“Did he really plan a romantic dinner at his house?” Oscar asked as he reached for his own drink.

“He had,” Ezra replied, glancing at the movement the next table over. “He even told me as much when I was leaving. That he wanted to make it up to me, and I had to tell him _again_ that I’m just not interested in him like that. Frankly, I went so far as to say I wasn’t interested in seeing anyone.”

“You’re joking,” Richard asked kindly.

“Afraid not,” Ezra said as he set down his flute. He twirled the stem between his fingers, watching it move. “The incident back in September made me realize that I am simply not in the proper headspace for any of that. I clearly am not reading signals like I should be. Otherwise, I would have known that Gabriel had wanted far more than I could give him. What he clearly expected.”

“I just don’t understand why you didn’t call David,” Oscar said simply.

“Well, it’s hardly like I planned to be intimate with someone.” Ezra rolled his eyes. “I was just a bit adrift. He’d kissed me, and I … I went with it. And in the moment, it felt right. It was the aftermath that made me regret the whole thing. And even if I had known that a physical encounter was what I had wanted, David was out of town.” Then, after biting his lip, he confessed. “I very nearly called Anthony.”

“You what?” Oscar asked while Richard frowned.

“Not-not for that. Again, I had no idea that it’s what I had wanted. But I had his number cued up and was working up the nerve to just touch the call button. But then Gabriel-”

“I genuinely don’t know if I’m thankful for the interruption, or bitter that it may have been the lesser of two evils.” Oscar interrupted before taking a drink of his champagne.

“Anthony’s the one you lost touch with, right?” Richard asked, trying to keep up.

“Yes,” Ezra nodded. “And frankly, Oscar, I’m of the same accord to a certain degree. I genuinely don’t know what might have been worse. For all I know, Anthony could have simply rang off, and then I would have been far more a wreck.” And then to change the subject, “How _is_ David these days. I haven’t heard much from him.”

Here, Richard beamed. “He met someone.” He said happily. “A wonderful bloke who moved to France from… I think he said Canada. I’m not sure, really, but he’s exactly what David needs. He’s actually looking to see if he can find a school to teach over in France, like an English immersion sort of deal.”

“Oh, I am glad to hear,” Ezra said, feeling his heart ache a bit at the news.

He was happy for David, of course, he was. But that part of him that had wanted to love him still mourned what will never be.

“You’re next,” Richard said with certainty. “You’ll see, your Mr. Right is coming for you. Might take him a bit, but he’s on his way.”

Ezra smiled sadly. “It’s alright if he doesn’t. I know thirty isn’t old, but there is a part of me that’s already accepted I may just be a confirmed bachelor of a modern persuasion.” 

“Be patient,” Richard said as he reached across the table and took Ezra’s hand. “Your man is coming, I know it.”

~C~

Crowley looked at the empty lot, a smile growing on his face the longer he lingered. 

In the last couple of months, he’d waffled. Swindon had a building ready to go, practically perfect for what he wanted. But something about the area didn’t sit right. He couldn’t put his finger on why, and so he thought maybe it was a good idea to go with his gut. Tadfield had land, but no building, which would mean a good chance he wouldn’t be open in time for the holidays if he decided to go that route. 

A couple of weeks back, he’d decided to take a drive and check out the smaller city, having never been before.

From the moment he entered the boundaries, everything felt right.

Crowley could just feel it in his gut, in his soul, that _this_ was where he had to set up a second shop. _This_ was where he would have the most success. And a stop at one of the local Realtors gave him three options for where to build, one next to a Hendricks, which was wonderfully convenient. He may have jumped the gun and hired an architect to design the building, and he may have jumped the gun again by getting in touch with a contractor in the area. But it worked out in the end.

He was leaning against his car, looking at the empty lot, the deed of ownership in his hand, signed not two hours ago. He pictured the storefront, the wide glass, and white brick. He imagined the plants one would see through the window, and how it would feel being in the greenhouse bit in the back on a warm, sunny day. There was even the space for an outdoor nursery in the summer or a tree lot in the winter should he decide to have one. 

This place here was where his vision for the future would really come to be.

Crowley didn’t want to leave. He just wanted to stay in this much quieter city, where the air seemed a little cleaner, and the sun a little brighter. It felt strangely like coming home after being away for far too long and he just couldn’t bring himself to move.

His phone rang, and without looking at it, he answered, “Crowley.”

“Did you get lost?” Bea asked.

“No.” Crowley frowned in voice alone, far too pleased with life to scowl physically. “Why do you ask?”

“Wasn’t your appointment to sign the papers three hours ago?” They retorted. 

“Mighta been.” He countered. “It’s in my hands, Bea. It’s mine, I can … I can do this.”

“Bonus that you aren’t sleeping with anyone this time that you can knock up.”

“Talked to the construction bloke,” Crowley said, ignoring that last comment. “And they can break ground the week after next. Bit later than I would’ve liked, but hell, it’s a start.”

“Are you quite done?” Bea asked. When Crowley remained silent for a moment, they continued. “Drinks are at seven. Dagon and I will meet you at the pub, do not be late, she has a guy for you to meet. You probably won’t like him, don’t think you’d fit, but it’s worth a shot because you can’t keep third-wheeling with us.”

“Right, seven. Gotcha.” He with a click.

Bea groaned. “And no shop talk.” They warned.

“Got it, thanks,” Crowley said before ringing off, thinking maybe instead of a boyfriend, he could probably find himself some new friends, full stop.

He pocketed his phone, and almost pushed off the car when he felt compelled to stop and stare at the empty lot one more time. 

Something was changing, something good was going to come of this, he could feel it in his bones.

“Happy bloody birthday to me,” He said with a wide, toothy grin to the wind, then got in his car and drove back to London.

~*~ 

He went to Tadfield about once a week, twice if his sitter could squeeze him in, and oversaw what he could. Construction hats did nothing for his hair, so it flatter these days, but if he wanted to be anywhere near anything he had to wear one. It actually became quite beneficial in some ways, being at the center of it all when he could. It was actually surprising how many little things came up that the architect would have been consulted on, and then him in turn.

It was also beneficial, he found, that he was able to sneak into a coffee shop each time he came up and order a massive round of drinks and snacks for the men and women at work. It seemed to make him a much more likable client, or at least he hoped it did.

In the last couple months since construction began, Crowley went to the same spot, and each time he was there, there was a woman a few years younger than him, sitting in a corner, reading a book. Book girl, he called her in his mind.

She was bloody beautiful. 

Book girl had long dark hair, either up in a bun, half up in a bun, or tumbled down around her shoulders like it was today. She was always in a sort of witch-like outfit, skirts and blouses or dresses that gave off that sort of aesthetic without being obnoxious. It just fit her. And book girl had these round glasses that were always perched on her nose, which softened the extreme beauty to make her more adorable, almost approachable.

Almost. 

He looked away before she could look up from her book and see the creepy ginger man turned toward her while wearing sunglasses. He’d forgotten his contacts that morning, Warlock having a particularly clingy day and he’d run out of time trying to put them in when trying to peel his son off his leg so he could get other things done.

Crowley placed his long order with the barista, made sure to tip well, and then headed down the counter to the bar to wait. He kept his back turned to the beautiful woman so he wouldn’t be tempted to stare, and found himself instead of looking at a beautiful man who was working the coffee machines and Crowley had never seen before.

“This is a sorta hell,” He mumbled to himself, looking down at his hands as he gently rapped his knuckles on the countertop.

“Is it?” A lilting voice with a pleasant accent said beside him, startling him to realize he’d been overheard.

Of course, it was book girl.

She smiled at him, seeming to know what he was thinking, then turned to the bloke and pointed. “He’s been checking you out since you walked in, and when you came down this way his posture has become much stiffer than it has been all morning. And his aura is light red.”

“His… aura.” Crowley managed to say.

“Mmmhmmm,” book girl hummed sincerely, narrowing her eyes at a spot above his head. “You’re all over the place, but I can tell you’re equally attracted to both him and me, which, really, I’m flattered but I’m seeing someone.”

“Right.” He said, feeling a bit like he was flailing.

“I’m Anathema, by the way.”

“AJ,” He introduced himself, offering his hand. 

Anathema took it with a smile, giving it a friendly shake in return. 

“Hello, AJ.” She said with a smile. “So, are you going to ask him for his number, or are you just-”

Crowley held up his hand, silencing Anathema and barely containing a nervous laugh. “I don’t know you.” He started. “And while I like this whole encouraging bit you have going, I don’t know him either. And I’m not intending on knowing him, or anyone, in that nature.”

He glanced over when he heard a grumble, watching the bloke pour a coffee into a new cup and throw out the other one which, apparently, had a lot more black ink on it than just the name of the order. 

“Why?” Anathema asked, getting Crowley’s attention again.

“You’re very nosy for a stranger, you know that?” He said, as equally put off by it as he was intrigued.

She simply smiled and shrugged. “I like to think I can get a good read on someone, whether they’re worth being nosy with.”

“I’m worthy? I’m honored.” He said with only a little sarcasm.

“You should be. So, why no dating?”

The next tray was set on the counter, leaving only the food to be brought over. 

“I don’t really have time to answer that,” He said with a grin that Anathema smirked at.

“Well,” She said. “Next time you’re here getting coffee, if you feel like a chat, I could use a friend. You probably could, too.”

~*~  
  


“Oi, book girl!” Crowley called, much to Bea’s and Dagon’s displeasure. Shouting out for someone was something they didn’t normally do, going so far as sneering at those who did. But the pub was full and rowdy, and Crowley could see Anathema was lost upon entering, not able to spot them easily through the lot of people. 

She beamed when she spotted Crowley waving, making her way through the crowd to the table, sitting in the chair next to Crowley’s and giving him a quick kiss on the cheek.

Bea’s eyebrows nearly hit their hairline.

“Bea, Dag, this is Anathema. I hired her for the Tadfield shop. Anathema, Bea, Dagon.”

“A pleasure,” Anathema replied warmly.

Bea ignored her. “You hired someone for a shop that’s not even built yet.” They asked Crowley.

He shrugged. “She wants a job to keep her busy, I’m gonna have jobs.”

“You realize that sleeping with your employees is actually something that causes problems,” Bea said, tilting their head as to look at Crowley from beneath their brow.

“Oh, I’m not sleeping with him. He’s not my type. Too flash,” Anathema said smoothly before waving down a waitress and ordering a beer.

Bea continued to stare at her, sizing her up. “You know where Tadfield is, don’t you?” They asked.

Anathema arched one perfectly shaped brow. “Considering that’s where I live, I would say so. I got the train in when AJ asked me to join you for drinks. Get to know you.”

Bea let the silence linger before giving a single nod, and continuing what they were talking about before. 

“I like them,” Anathema leaned in and whispered when Bea and Dagon got caught in a discussion. “We’re going to end up teaming up on you a lot. You know that, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” Crowley agreed with a grin. Frankly, he couldn’t wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter is back to 2019, and after that we have about five or six left (from my best guess). The What If's will follow after the Epilogue is posted.  
> Until next time.
> 
> Chapter title from "Reaching" by Jason Reeves


	35. Like We Stood a Chance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A preface to say I know very little about legal things, and I was a little overwhelmed in the research. Please take it all with a grain of salt.

**2019**

Crowley wasn’t sure what he was more fearful of: Lucas Martin looking over the summons and declaring everything a lost cause, or Lucas Martin laying eyes on Adam and having some sort of cinematic epiphany that he did want to be a father to him after all.

Which was probably why he was pacing around the living area of the house, glancing out the window every couple of seconds to see if an unfamiliar car pulled into the drive yet. 

“Darling, you’ll wear a path in the floor,” Ezra said from where he prepared tea in the kitchen. “Come, sit. He’s on his way, he texted about forty minutes ago. Barring traffic, he shouldn’t be much longer, and you’ll be all in knots when he gets here.”

“How are you so calm?” Crowley asked, very much not calm. He stalked toward Ezra who went about the motions of setting up a tea tray as if it were Anathema or Marjorie on their way. “How are you so. Bloody. Calm.”

“Because, my dear, there is no reason not be.” He said with infinite patience. “Lucas will get here, he will look over everything, and he will discuss the best course of action. Until then,” He then reached up in the cupboard and pulled down Crowley’s open bottle of whiskey, and a shot glass. He poured one, then handed it to Crowley. “Calm your nerves.”

Crowley took it, ready to argue that this was stupid when the doorbell rang. He threw back the shot as Ezra went to answer the door.

“Ezra!” He heard Lucas’ smooth, almost sultry voice greet his fiance, and Crowley slammed the empty shot glass down on the counter and headed to see him.

“Lucas, welcome to our home,” Ezra greeted warmly, directing the man in wear he could put his jacket and shoes. Crowley caught up to them as they were entering the main area of the house, Lucas looking around at everything as he went.

“It’s very cozy,” He said sincerely. “Feels like a proper family home, you know? ‘Magine you have a whole bunch of little hellions trapezing through here.”

“Just the two, mostly.” Crowley managed to say with a grin, getting Lucas to chuckle before they shook hands and greeted one another before heading for the table.

“Who’s it?” Warlock’s voice heralded the arrival of the boys, both too nosy to have stayed upstairs like asked.

“It’s the gentleman dad and I said would be coming over,” Ezra said in a firm voice that neither of them heeded.

Adam marched right over and introduced himself, hand extended. “Adam Fell.” He said with a nod. 

Lucas looked at him a painfully long time, and Crowley’s heart began to pick up speed. 

Lucas smiled a strained grin, “Lucas Martin.” He said, without reaching for Adam’s hand. Instead, he glanced at it like it was something to be feared.

“I’m Warlock,” Warlock said simply, not bothering with offering his hand at all. “Come on, Adam,” he pulled on Adam’s arm, and Lucas was forgotten. The two of them raced back upstairs, shouting about some sort of nonsense that Crowley didn’t have the brain capacity to comprehend.

He simply watched Lucas as he stood positively still for a moment before turning to Ezra.

“Thank someone he looks like Eliza because I think I might have needed to have a hit or five of that whiskey if he looked anything like me. Terrifying thought.” He said, getting Ezra to laugh as Ezra gestured for them to take a seat.

“Now, you have the documents handy, I see, which is excellent,” Lucas said, getting to the point. 

“How do you take your tea, Lucas?” Ezra asked as Crowley willed his body to function through the panic and sit at the table like a human,

“Lemon, one sugar,” Lucas responded while beginning to flip through the summons. “He’s being painfully specific with this, isn’t he?” Lucas said as he pulled out a pair of glasses from the pocket of his casual button-up, going back and forth between two pages once he had them on. “Like, really, bloody specific.”

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” Ezra asked, which was good because brain function hadn’t fully returned to Crowley. 

He was just getting over the nonchalant way Lucas met his child as if that was not his own flesh and blood before him and then continued on as if a big, monumental thing hadn’t just happened. Crowley was still wrapping his head around the fact that it _wasn’t_ a big, monumental thing to the man, and now he was talking about legal documents. Legal documents in which Crowley had because….

Crowley eyed that whiskey bottle and pondered if one thirty in the afternoon was too early in the day to get sloshed when there was at least one other responsible adult around to mind the children.

“Well, I think that all depends on a number of things,” Lucas replied. “He is specifically suing for the Garden in London, which might mean that your location here could be safe. Are they a corporation, or have any sort of connection on paper?” Lucas directed this at him, and Crowley floundered.

“Does that make a difference?” Ezra asked while Crowley tried to form words.

“It might,” Lucas replied, glancing at Ezra before turning back to Crowley who could only shake his head.

Lucas nodded, frowning, then turned to Ezra. “I don’t recall him being this inarticulate.” He said in a lowered voice, though one that he had to have known Crowley could still hear.

Ezra grinned, “He’s a bit out of sorts over this whole thing.” He replied. “You’ll find in a few minutes, the English language will return to him, and he’ll be as close to normal as Anthony ever gets.”

“Oi,” He scowled, and Ezra beamed.

“Ah, see. Already on the way.”

Lucas smiled, “You’re like an old married couple, and you haven’t even had the wedding yet.” And then he looked at the papers, smiling fading slowly. “If the two businesses aren’t linked on paper by anything but your name, then you may be able to keep it out of this mess. Now, it says he’s suing for his share of the business, which would have been purchased with a loan he’d given you five years ago, roughly, that had never been paid back.”

“My trust fund.” Crowley managed to get out. 

Lucas frowned. “Five years ago…. But, and correct me if I’m wrong, as I’m going by an assumption you and Ezra are the same age. And he and Eliza were… twins or something, which means he’s, what, thirty-three, thirty-four?” He asked, vaguely gesturing to Ezra.

“Thirty-four.” Ezra nodded.

“Trust funds aren’t usually held that long,” Lucas replied.

“He held it because I tended to date men. He wasn’t fond of that.” Crowley replied. “Until I proved I’d-”

“Your boy.” Lucas put it all together. “Your son is biological.”

Crowley nodded.

“That might work in our favor, depending on the judge. Of course, he can lie, say any number of things to explain why he wouldn’t release the trust when he should have. Your dating men could be spun to be ‘irresponsible behavior’.”

“Isn’t that a bit prejudiced?” Ezra grumbled.

“It is, but I’ve worked with the men who will work for James Crowley, and they won’t care as long as it wins their client the argument. And, of course, if Anthony counters that with the real reason, it becomes muddled. The trust could be very well seen as a loan.” He looked to Crowley. “Do you own or rent?”

“Own, both places,” Crowley replied. “The London spot was a bit of a hovel, and I managed to get it for a steal.”

“How much of your inheritance went to the purchase of property?”

“None.”

“How did that work?” Lucas asked, furrowing his brow.

“I had savings. I worked as a gardener for US officials on a private estate. Good money, I lived there rent-free, out in the bloody middle of nowhere so there wasn't much to spend money on.”

“But you did spend the money he gave you on the shop,” Lucas asked.

Crowley shrugged. “Rest of what I had saved went to a home for Lock. Shop was put on hold.” 

“See, this is why I can’t fathom why anyone would want to procreate,” Lucas grumbled to himself. “It was an honorable thing you did, don’t get me wrong. You’re a bigger man than I am when it comes to that, but look where it got you.”

“Let’s… let’s leave the children out of it.” Ezra came in before Crowley could say anything, and Lucas at least had the decency to look chagrined. 

“So,” he redirected. “You - in theory- had the money for all this.”

“I did.” Crowley acknowledged.

“And of course, you would have done your taxes and whatnot for the year, so you would have had a formal slip stating your earnings?”

Crowley bit his lip. “Yeah,” he said. “But I don’t know if it would have covered everything.” He admitted. “And, I had a bit of a … leaving bonus. I don’t do my own taxes, I have an accountant that takes care of all that, but he’s been away for the last few months, and isn’t expected back for a while.”

“Your court date is in two weeks,” Lucas noted with a frown. 

“Yeah,” Crowley grumbled. “I get the feeling you want to have proof I could have done it all on my own, without James’ help.”

“It would probably go a long way to help your case.” Lucas nodded. “A sympathetic judge would see you doing right by your son, putting him first. Most may even see it as you simply taking responsibility, and since you can’t really differentiate the use of your income or inheritance.”

“But that may also hinder Anthony.” Ezra considered. “For the same reasons.”

“Which is why having the statement of payment from the official source could go a long way in looking favorable for Anthony. The timing, of course, would be key.”

Crowley nodded as well, his gut churning. “I can… make a call or two, see if I can get them from… Thad.” He swallowed, glancing at Ezra who looked at him wide-eyed.

“From…?” He asked pointedly.

“Yeah,” Crowley confirmed.

“And-”

“Yeah.”

“Oh.”

“Yep.”

“Well,” Ezra chuckled nervously. “Won’t that be a reunion.”

Lucas watched them like a tennis match, a smirk growing. “There’s a story there.”

“No, there’s really not,” Crowley said far too casually to be believed. “On an entirely separate note, Lucas, do you happen to do wills? Because if I’m going to go see Thaddeus Dowling, I may just need one.”

~*~  
  


“If I don’t come back, know that I loved you,” Crowley said with a dramatic flair, not entirely joking though it made Ezra giggle. He had reached across the cafe table to hold Ezra’s hand and looked deep into his eyes for greater effect, and also so he could bask in them just in case it was the last time he’d see them.

Crowley wasn’t sure Harriet wouldn’t have told Thaddeus what had happened.

He’d called after dinner the day Lucas had been by, a bit of a contingency plan formed and ready to be executed in preparation for the upcoming court date. Crowley was on board with essentially all of it, except the one part that was completely on him: getting the records of his employment from his previous employer. 

Thaddeus Dowling had answered the phone within the first few rings. He spoke as if he remembered him, but with that tone that always gave away when someone wasn’t entirely sure they remembered correctly. He’d said that Crowley should come by the estate, that he’d have copies of all the paperwork ready when he got there midweek and rang off with a “see ya soon.”

It was midweek, and Crowley could only imagine what four days to think over who he was could lead to. And, what’s more, what might be mentioned in that time. He didn’t know what happened after he left the estate all those years ago. It could be very stupid of him to go back.

Crowley wasn’t sure if it was a stereotype or not, Americans being so fond of guns. But the secret service was around to protect the family, and he was sure they could make some convoluted story as to why the former gardener was shot multiple times.

Lucas never did make that will, the bastard.

“You’ll be fine, dear,” Ezra assured. 

“You’ll look after the boys, remind them of their dear ol’ dad?”

“Anthony, you’re being ridiculous.”

“Am I, though?” he asked, looking at his cup.

“Listen, if the man knew, do you really think he’d have been as polite to you as he was?” Ezra challenged, and loathed as he was to admit it, Crowley had to concede he had a point. “Now, I’m going to be late for work, so if you would kindly take me.”

“Yes, yes,” Crowley grumbled as they got up. “Our last moments together, and you’re worried about your job.”

“Well, if these _are_ our last moments together, then I’ll have two boys to support. I can’t risk being jobless on top of being spouseless.” 

Crowley rolled his eyes affectionately.

He dropped Ezra off, found himself sitting outside the school a bit longer than he would normally, then eventually put on his best of Queen album and headed out of the city.

He was painfully nervous, having not seen Thaddeus himself since before… all of it. Probably not since the night of the party when Harriet followed him back to his cottage. 

Crowley tried not to think about it too long. 

It was both a long drive and one that was far too short because before he knew it he was pulling into the guest parking a good ways away from the building, getting out of the Bentley, and heading up to the front door.

The butler was the same, but Crowley couldn’t discern if the man remembered him at all. He didn’t recognize any of the secret service people, but he wasn’t sure he’d have recognized them anyway, given that they were always just on the edge of things, shadows and wearing sunglasses.

Being expected, he was led into the sitting room, the same place he’d once been interviewed, and told it would be a few minutes. He nodded, and when the door was closed, he went to the windows to have a look at the gardens.

“What the bloody hell happened to them?” He grumbled upon seeing his hard work had only been minimally kept up at best. He could see in his head exactly what would have to be done to restore it to where it was, and exactly how he would begin.

He was just beginning to weigh the pros and cons of coming back to work for the Dowlings should he lose everything when the doors to the sitting room opened.

He turned and froze like a deer in headlights when Harriet, and only Harriet, walked in.

“Hello, AJ.” She said with a polite smile, glancing over her shoulder as the doors were closed again.

“Harriet,” he managed a nod. “Is Thad…?”

“On a call. Surprise.” She said sarcastically, heading to the pair of sofas in the middle of the room. Her gesture to have a seat was born of habit, she barely seemed to pay attention to what her hand was doing, as she took a seat herself.

He moved cautiously, unsure how to navigate any of this, and took a seat across from her.

“You look well.” He said as he shifted to get as close to comfortable as he could be.

She grinned. “So do you. You cut your hair.”

“Yeah,” he said, reaching up and touching the wisps of hair at the back of his neck that wouldn’t go up in the bun. “Had it a lot shorter than this for a while, when-” he stopped himself, not sure if he should bring Warlock up.

“Ah,” She nodded in understanding. 

“You were back in the states.” He said, trying a different avenue.

“Yeah, we went back about four years ago.” She nodded. “TJ is still over there, actually. He, umm, he decided he wanted to live with my sister and her family.”

“That’s gotta be hard.” Crowley winced.

“Ha,” Harriet said, “it’s better for all of us if I’m honest. He’s got more structure there. He’s happier. Still will hop a plane, come with us when it’s expected the whole family be present for wherever Thad’s gotta be. But he’s been in the same school for almost five years now, he has friends his own age. He’s good.” She said with a smile and a nod. 

“Good, glad to hear.” Crowley nodded.

Harriet glanced away as she nodded as well. 

“How have you been, though? Back here?”

She shrugged, “I’m alright. Tried my hand at being my own gardener, figured all that time we spent together might have taught me something. Apparently, I didn’t pay as much attention to the actual gardening as I thought.”

“You’re the reason for that disaster?!” He exclaimed, throwing a thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the window.

She threw her head back and laughed. “Not entirely. We had this other gardener after you left, Francis, and he was horrible. He seemed like a great choice, he believed in green gardening, no pesticides, all that. Thad ate it up. Turns out that he meant none whatsoever, and let the bugs all over everything. Barely kept things tidy, would transplant the weeds to around the cottage, it was horrible.”

Crowley snickered. “Bet you missed me then.”

“You’ve no idea.” She said honestly. She met his eye, something weighted in hers, and Crowley couldn’t look away. “How is he?” She asked quietly.

There wasn’t a question as to who _he_ was, and after a split second of shock, Crowley replied.

“He’s great,” He said with a growing grin. “He’s bloody fantastic. Clever when he wants to be, funny, little shy. Sweet, such a sweet little boy. Quiet when he wants to be. Well, quieter than his brother, that’s for sure.”

Harriet snorted. “Doesn’t take a lot to be quieter than TJ.” 

“Oh… no. I … I didn’t mean. I mean Adam.” Crowley explained.

Harriet’s eyes widened. “He’s got a little brother?” She asked with a grin.

“Well, big brother by about three minutes,” Crowley smirked. At Harriet’s confusion, he added, “technically stepbrother. Or, will be. I’m getting married.”

“Oh, congratulations!” She said sincerely, even if her shoulders dropped a bit. 

“Thanks,” Crowley replied. “Would… do you wanna see a picture?”

Harriet bit her lip, glancing at the door, fidgeting.

“Yeah, okay,” She said in a rush, and Crowley pulled out his phone, bringing up his favorite photo from the playground, where Ezra was helping Warlock with the Monkey bars, Adam waiting on the platform nearby. He showed it to Harriet. “That’s my family.” He said proudly. 

She took the phone, “Oh.” She gasped as she looked it over. “Oh, he looks… he looks like me.” 

“Yeah, a bit.” Crowley agreed. 

Harriet looked at the picture more. “He looks happy.” She said as she handed the device back.

“He is,” Crowley said. 

“And your husband. Or, almost-husband.”

“Ezra.”

She blinked, the name seeming to trigger something in her brain. “You told me about him once.” She realized.

“Yeah, we ran into each other again. Rest is history.” He grinned. 

She did too, but it never reached her eyes.

She looked at the phone as Crowley tucked it away, then glanced back at the door.

“You know,” She said, looking off to the side and decidedly not at Crowley. “There was a moment after… after he was born. A moment when it hit me that you were there, like actually _there_ with me while I gave birth, and you kissed my head, and I…. For a moment, I had wanted all of that so, so badly. I wanted you, and him, and this whole partnership we might have had. I was really contemplating just leaving with you.”

Crowley sucked in a sharp breath, “you did?”

“Yeah,” She laughed bitterly. “You were my best friend, and while I didn’t _love_ you, I loved you. I thought, sitting in that bed, watching you with our son, that that was what I should have always had. And it was all right there if I just set aside this idea of duty I had and did what might make me happy.” She met his eye. “But it wouldn’t have worked. Not with the way you smile when you talk about your guy. We’d have never been enough for each other.”

“Is that why you didn’t say goodbye?” He asked her quietly. “Why you just left?”

“Yeah,” She nodded. “I couldn’t stay. The longer I stayed, seeing you two, and all the hormones…. I knew deep down it would never have worked. Figured it might be easier to just walk away. You were always a bit of a walking temptation, it just took me a while to figure out how to stop allowing myself to give in.”

“Are you happy, at least? Honestly? I mean, you got the real short end of the stick here.”

“I….” She responded, hesitating. “I have a reason to be happy being here. Thad… knows about this one. And I know about his, and it’s just easier. Saves from having his political reputation tarnished with a divorce, seeing as it’s bad enough he has a son who doesn’t live with him. He swings that by saying he wanted to make sure TJ had all-American values at such an impressionable age. But I… I go to London for ‘shopping trips’, and Thad doesn’t stop me. It’s easier.” She repeated, meeting his eyes.

Crowley didn’t believe her, not really, but he could see she was at least as happy as Harriet would allow herself to be. They lingered in silence for a minute, and before either of them could say anything, the doors opened.

“AJ,” Thaddeus boomed cheerfully as he entered the room, a manila envelope tucked under his arm. “Sorry I wasn’t here to greet ya, and I’m afraid I can’t stay long. Got me on multiple video conferences with all these embassies all day, was only able to step away for a moment.” 

Crowley stood as the man approached, shaking the diplomat’s hand.

“’S fine.” He said, waving it off.

“Appreciate the understanding,” Thaddeus said as he let go of Crowley’s hand and handed him the envelope. “Should all be there. If anything’s missing, I have the number for my secretary in there. Give her a call, she’ll fax over whatever you need.” He then turned to Harriet, “I’m gonna be a while.”

She smiled and nodded. “Of course, go on.” 

Thaddeus smiled, waved quickly before turning and heading right back out of the room, leaving the door open.

“I should… I should probably go,” Crowley said, glancing at the door then opening the envelope just enough to confirm it was what he was after.

“Yeah, of course.” Harried agreed, standing and walking with him to the doorway. “Good luck, AJ. Hope it all works out for you.”

“You too, Harriet.” He said, lifting one arm and giving her a quick, one-armed embrace with a peck on the cheek before turning and leaving.

As he got in the Bentley, he thought for a moment of what life might have been like had Harriet chosen to run off with him. He certainly wouldn’t be where he was now in regard to James. But he’d have never been happy, and he felt nearly sick at the possibility of having found Ezra again only to have to keep him forever at arm's length. Of never having what he had now.

He turned the key in the ignition and left the Dowling residence forever for the second time. He left with even less regret than the first time and said a silent thank you to whatever deity was listening that things turned out the way they did.

~A~

“That feels like a really big deal, dear,” Marjorie said as she and Ezra sat together in the park. 

Anthony and the boys were over at the equipment being loud and perhaps a bit obnoxious, but they were also laughing and having fun. A far cry from the way Anthony had been the week before, or even just that morning. It warmed Ezra’s heart, even as he wondered why his love seemed so completely free. 

He’d appeared overly eager to see Ezra when he picked him up from school, going so far as to lean against the outside of the Bentley instead of his normal waiting behind the wheel. Once Ezra was within reach, Anthony had pulled him in and gave him a kiss that was just on the right side of appropriate which earned him a few wolf-whistles, and a “you go, Mr. Fell” from the students nearby. Once inside the car, Anthony suggested park time, and maybe the family eating dinner out as opposed to just picking it up and bringing it back to the house.

Ezra hadn’t known what to say, so he went along with it to make the boys happy. 

Marjorie had been out for a stroll when she’d seen them climb out of the Bentley, and Ezra was grateful to have someone to chat with as Anthony had already seemed to be roped into whatever schemes the boys had dreamed up.

So at the table he frequented many times when he lived above the bookshop, he and Marjorie chatted over a cup of tea, catching her up on the goings-on from the last few weeks.

Ezra shrugged. “It was the best way to go about things if I’m to be honest. It keeps Anthony’s livelihood at least partly safe.”

Marjorie tilted her head. “I suppose there’s that, but you’ll have-” She stopped, looking over Ezra’s shoulder with a strained smile. “Mr. Haven.” She greeted, and Ezra physically startled at the idea of having Gabriel so unexpectedly close.

“Marjorie.” Gabriel greeted her before turning to Ezra with a grin. “Hey, sunshine.”

“Hello,” Ezra greeted him. “Out for a jog, were you?”

“Just finishing up. Where’s Adam? He with…?”

There was a loud, double screech, and Anthony’s laughter carried loudly from the playground. Ezra glanced to see the boys fleeing their dad while he chased them merrily.

“Yes, one can say that.” Ezra grinned at Gabriel. “Would you like to join us?” He asked, more for politeness' sake than anything. 

Gabriel glanced over to where Anthony and the boys were, and then took a seat beside Ezra. “I suppose I can stop for a moment.” He said as he unclipped a water bottle and took a drink.

“Ezra was just saying how AJ signed over the Tadfield shop to him.” Marjorie caught Gabriel up, and Ezra cringed.

Gabriel’s eyes went wide. “Why the hell would he do that?” He asked.

Before Marjorie could reply, Ezra said, “It’s a bit convoluted, and really not my thing to discuss. The point of it is, though, is that it’s in my name for safekeeping at the moment. Not like it will make a difference, because once we’re married, it will be his again, anyway. If, of course, I don’t sign it back over to him as soon as possible.”

“I say hold on to it, even after you’re married,” Marjorie said before taking a quick sip of her tea. “Use it like a pre-nuptial agreement. That way, if he acts untoward-”

“He wouldn’t.” Ezra interrupted calmly. “I have known Anthony for a very long time. And while I will confess to having that fear only last week, I’ve realized it was completely foolish of me. If at some point he decided he no longer wants to be my husband, he’ll tell me. If by chance he meets someone else, I’m sure he’ll do the honorable thing.”

“Are you sure?” Gabriel asked quietly.

“Yes, quite sure,” Ezra replied without a second thought. 

“Well, I say don’t hand the power back over to him just yet,” Marjorie advised. “Keep it close, and if something does happen, messy or otherwise, you can have a fail-safe.”

Ezra smirked. “For someone who never married, and never wanted to, you seem to have a very set idea on how one should enter into it.”

Marjorie grinned, giving a little shrug. “Seen enough people fall apart to know one should protect one’s self when the heart’s involved.” Then with a devious smirk, added, “Not to mention having a bit of actual power over him might be a bit fun when it comes to-”

“You know, I have a conference call with someone in New York soon,” Gabriel said suddenly, getting up from the bench. “Should probably start heading home, grab a shower and all that before I have to get back to work. You free for lunch later in the week, sunshine?”

Ezra frowned. “It’s Wednesday. Hardly much left for later. And I’m afraid that’s a no, actually. But I should have a day next week if you’d like.”

“Sounds great, I’ll text you later,” Gabriel said as he took off, getting back into a fairly brisk pace before he disappeared.

Marjorie watched him go with wide eyes. “He seems friendlier than I had expected, what with you telling me what happened prior to your engagement party.”

“We’ve been patching things up slowly,” Ezra explained with a grin. “Though he very nearly said Anthony and Lock’s names, so I think we’re finally getting somewhere.”

Marjorie snorted inelegantly, shaking her head, and changed the subject to one of her clients.

~*~

“You’re being a menace,” Ezra told Anthony that night after the boys were to bed and he was trying to read.

Anthony had snaked his way around Ezra on the sofa, forcing him to scoot forward to make room. He had then wrapped his arms and legs around Ezra as if to keep him there as if Ezra would suddenly spring up and move away. He also began to place the tiniest of kisses on every bit of Ezra’s exposed skin that he could reach. And, if that hadn’t been distracting enough (for good and for ill), Anthony would occasionally run a hand through Ezra’s curls, or comment on something in the book.

“I’m nothing of the sort,” Anthony replied. Ezra could hear the smile in his voice, and it made him grin a little more.

“What has gotten into you?” Ezra asked, turning as much as he could toward Anthony. Which, admittedly, wasn’t very much. “This morning you were terrified to go, being a touch overdramatic. And you came back from the meeting as if the man somehow handed you a dismissal on this whole legal nonsense.”

Anthony kissed just behind Ezra’s ear. “Barely saw Thaddeus Dowling,” Anthony admitted. “He came in, handed me the papers, apologized for not being able to stick around, then left.”

“Alright,” Ezra frowned.

“Spoke with Harriet,” Anthony added, and the way he said it had Ezra’s heartbeat slightly erratically.

“Oh? And that’s what has you in this amorous mood?”

“In a way,” Anthony conceded. “She actually asked about Lock, which was surprising. Explained why she left us like she did.”

“….left you?” Ezra asked quietly.

“Said she left when she could, didn’t I?” Anthony asked, sounding confused.

“Yes, but… the way you said it before I imagined it was a sort of drop-off. She had the baby and then left.”

“I… no,” Anthony said, nuzzling at Ezra’s shoulder. “She was around for a day, two at most, but I’m pretty sure it was only one. Time was a bit hazy back then. We were all together in the room, and… I went to walk Warlock about the ward, and when I came back she was gone.”

“But she was never meant to stay… right?” Ezra asked.

He felt Anthony stiffen a moment before a hand reached around him and plucked the book from Ezra’s hand. He took the slip of paper Ezra had been using as a bookmark and tucked it in the pages before setting the book aside. He then shifted Ezra just enough that he could look him in the eye, and hold both his hands while still wrapped around him.

“That was what she told me today.” He said. “That she had, for a bit, considered leaving with me and Lock. That everything about his birth was what she had wanted from a partner. But I had never wanted her that way. I cared for her, she was a very good, very dear friend in the years I worked there. But Harriet put it best when she told me that she loved me, but didn’t _love_ me.”

Ezra nodded. “I do believe I understand a bit of what that’s like.” He said with a quick upturn of the lips. “But that doesn’t really explain all this.”

Anthony grinned. “Had I ended up with her if she’d ran off to be with me and we built a life together, none of this would have happened. I wouldn’t have had James going after me, I’d never would have raised Warlock on my own. All the hard bits wouldn’t have happened. But, I also wouldn’t have gotten this chance with you. Because if we did, somehow, inevitably meet up again, you’d have always been just out of my reach.”

Ezra frowned, “And that has you holding on, literally and figuratively, a little tighter?”

“You’re the love of my life.” Anthony said with utter seriousness. “To think that there was one more way the universe could have kept me from you…. Just makes me want to hold on a little more to you. Make sure it doesn’t get any ideas about letting you slip away.”

Ezra melted a bit, smiling softly. “Oh, darling. You’re the love of my life as well.” He leaned in and kissed Anthony very tenderly. “And the universe would have to try very, very hard to separate us now. It tried once already, but now I’m better prepared for it.”

“Good.” Anthony agreed, stealing one more peck. “Read to me?” He asked.

“With pleasure,” Ezra replied, picking up the book and settling into Anthony’s arms once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You will notice that there is officially a final chapter count. I only have 2 left to actually write, and the epilogue to tweak. No promises on a posting time line, though.  
> Until next time.
> 
> Chapter title from "Out of the Woods" by Taylor Swift


	36. One Day I'll Let You Go

**2017**

“Bloody hell, I love this place,” Eliza said with as much affection as Ezra would usually hold for a bookshop. 

The Garden had only been open for a few months, but Eliza had managed to go at least once a month from the first. Ezra could see the appeal, it was like walking into some sort of enchanted world. He’d never seen plants that lush, that perfect.

Well, he’d seen a few, very well taken care of plants that looked this nice in the past, but never on such a large scale.

“Mummy said a bad word,” Adam said in a small voice, a slight upturn to his lips as he held Ezra’s hand while Eliza looked around.

“Yes, she did.” Ezra agreed. “But we know better than to repeat everything mummy says, don’t we?”

Adam nodded, his tiny little smirk growing into a big, wide grin.

“Anathema!” Eliza cheered excitedly, and Ezra looked over to see a very lovely woman with a style nearly as antiqued as his own go over and hug his sister.

“Dear lord, do you really come here so often that you’ve taken to hugging the staff?” He teased.

“When was the last time you hugged anyone, not your nephew or me?” Eliza snipped back with no bite, and Anathema smiled.

“Your brother?” She asked in an accent that was a different sort of Spanish than one he was familiar with from his travels. 

“Yeah. This is Ez,” Eliza introduced him with a flick of her wrist.

“Ezra,” He corrected. “She’s literally the only person I will allow to call me that, and only because she has seniority.” He said with a smile, offering his free hand to Anathema.

“A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Ezra.” She said genuinely. “Nice jacket, by the way.”

“Thank you,” He smiled smugly at Eliza who groaned and rolled her eyes. “It’s an antique.”

“You’re an antique.” Eliza retorted. “I’m going to go off and look at plants.” She said, skipping off to the potted succulents in another part of the shop.

“It’s for the best she sticks to the small ones,” Ezra commented. “We don’t have a lot of room to stash all the ones she keeps bringing home.”

“Yeah, she told me once when she was eyeing up one of our yucca trees,” Anathema replied, turning back to Ezra and eyeing him curiously. “So, Liza told me you were a teacher?”

“How much does she talk about me?” Ezra frowned.

“Probably more than you’d like.” Anathema scrunched her nose. “Like, for instance, I know there’s a particular bloke who keeps nipping at your heels?”

“She really does tell you everything,” Ezra grumbled.

“If it helps, she told me that one over a cup of coffee,” Anathema said with a shrug.

“Ah,” Ezra mouthed, nodding in understanding. “So when she told me she’d given up men and was going on a date with a woman last Sunday, she meant you, didn’t she?” He smirked.

Anathema laughed, “Yeah, I guess she did. Seems I’m everyone’s girlfriend these days. Even my boss, AJ, tells people he’s going on a date when he’s just hanging around with me.”

Ezra wasn’t sure what to say to that so he simply smiled.

She was still looking at him.

“I think you’d get along with him.” She said simply.

“Oh, no, please,” Ezra said immediately. “I have really no intentions of meeting anyone new.”

“It doesn’t have to be like _that,_ ” Anathema assured. “But he does like everyone if you know what I mean.”

“Well, that’s quite lovely for him, but I will have to decline.” He insisted.

“I’m making you uncomfortable,” Anathema said with a slight furrow in her brow. 

“Yes, I’m quite afraid you are.” He said a bit too hastily.

“I’m sorry.” Anathema apologized sincerely. “I get a bit nosy with people sometimes.”

Ezra wasn’t sure what to say to _that_ without agreeing too emphatically, so he merely gave a nod with a slight purse of his lips. Someone had tapped Anathema on the shoulder, turning her attention away from Ezra.

He breathed a sigh of relief and led Adam away, partly to get away from the overly personal woman his sister befriended, and partly to find Eliza before she bought anything too drastic.

“Where do you think mum went?” he asked the little boy at his side.

“I dunno,” He said, sounding as bored as any three-year-old would in a shop such as this.

They made their way through the aisles until Eliza’s laugh caught Ezra’s ear, and he headed toward it.

He rounded the corner but didn’t make it all the way because for the first time in his entire life he’d found his sister looking flustered. It had him stopping so short Adam bumped into him, but he could only offer a half focused apology.

Eliza was blushing, and bashfully smiling at a -frankly- beautiful man. Tall, with a smooth head, and a brilliant smile, Ezra felt the briefest pangs of envy.

He could hear the man speaking, though of what Ezra couldn’t quite catch. He _had_ noted that the man was American, but his dialect was much softer than Gabriel’s, his voice not as booming. 

But the way he smiled at Eliza, and Eliza at him, felt almost too intimate to walk in on. 

Ezra backed away, telling Adam that he heard tell that there was an enclosed snake somewhere in the shop, and maybe they could see if the rumor was true.

~C~

“Hi,” A man said as he approached the arrangement counter Crowley was currently manning in the Tadfield location.

“Hello, what can I do for you?” Crowley asked with a quick grin. 

“I’m here to get some flowers.” The man replied, and Crowley had to smirk at the obviousness of such a statement from the nervous bloke. 

“Date or doghouse?” He asked, and that earned a chuckle out of the gorgeous fellow.

“Umm, date. First date, would really like to make an impression. I met this woman about five months ago. Here actually, and, well.”

“Five months ago,” Crowley said with surprise as he began grabbing flowers and arranging something for the poor sap. “Must be worth it, first date this far down the line. And getting close to the holidays at that.”

“Yeah,” The guy laughed nervously. “She’s… she’s stunning. And smart, er- clever. She’s quite vivacious.”

“It’s not Anathema, is it?” Crowley asked, pulling scissors out of the drawer to begin trimming.

“No, no, she’s just this woman I helped out when she tried to grab a cactus that was a bit too high for her.”

“A cactus?” 

“Yeah, she says her brother’s terrible with plants.” He shrugged. 

“Smart of her, then, going that route.” Crowley acknowledged as he bundled the bouquet together, preparing to tie it up before wrapping it. 

“Yeah, well, smart was a factor here.” The bloke’s grin faltered as he realized the level of awful his comment was. “Oh, I’m going to fuck this up.”

Crowley chuckled. “Mate, just be yourself. I mean, five months, yeah? She must have gotten to know you in that time, must know you make bad jokes.”

“Yeah,” the bloke agreed. 

“So, don’t worry too much. Go better if you relax.” The Crowley shrugged. “But what the hell do I know? I haven’t been on a date in a couple’a years.”

That had the bloke really laughing, which brought out a glorious smile. Pity he was doing up flowers for the man’s date, otherwise, Crowley might have been tempted to take a swing at him himself.

He told the man the price, and the bloke handed over his credit card.

Crowley glanced at the name. “Alright, Gavin. Good luck tonight, yeah?”

“Thanks,” Gavin said as he took back his card, tucking it in his wallet and putting it away before grabbing the flowers. He gave a quick wave to Crowley before heading out the door, and Crowley watched him go before sighing heavily.

He was starting to get lonely. 

He had no shortage of friends these days. Bea and Dagon came by his flat in Mayfair regularly, and Anathema was practically his shadow when he was here in Tadfield, even on the days she would have had off. He got along with his other staff, and on occasion, he’d see the blokes from school, though they had grown more apart as time passed.

And there was Warlock, of course, who was the light of Crowley’s life and remaining the most important person in his world. He loved spending time with him, especially since now he had a personality of his own that he could actually express. 

But he was starting to miss that connection with another person, the intimacy of falling into something that looked and tasted like love even if it never quite became the real thing. He didn’t know what it was about the shop in Tadfield that made him want that all the more, though if he had to guess it was because Tadfield felt more like a dream come true than the London shop ever did. He wanted to share that with someone.

He was damn near ready for Bea to set him up again, which he may come to regret.

Still, better than watching a bloke walk away and be jealous of the date he had.

~A~

“What are you doing here?” Ezra frowned as he opened the door to Gabriel.

“Wine?” Gabriel replied with a confused frown, showing Ezra the bottle of red.

“You’re not a fan of wine,” Ezra retorted.

“But… you are.” Gabriel almost sounded uncertain.

“Still, why are you bringing wine by the flat?” Ezra replied. “Hardly like I can have more than a glass, I’m watching Adam tonight.”

“I know, I remembered you telling me. Thought maybe I would come by and keep you company.”

Ezra blinked. “Gabriel I hardly need to be kept company in my own home.”

“Yeah, but-”

“Oh, just… come in. We’re going to let all the heat out if we keep this up, and Eliza will be quite displeased.” He stepped aside and let Gabriel over the threshold.

“Uncle Ezra?” Adam asked sleepily, coming down the hall.

“It’s just Mr. Haven,” Ezra replied, closing the door and going over to scoop the boy up, carry him back down the hall to the bedroom Adam shared with Eliza. Ezra kissed Adam’s cheek as he placed him back in the toddler bed he was starting to get too big for. He knelt down beside his nephew, tucking him in and brushing back the unruly curls. “Do you need anything?”

Adam shook his head, then paused. “When’s mum gonna be home?” 

“Quite late,” Ezra replied. “Way past when you’ll be asleep. But when you wake up in the morning, she’ll be here.”

“Okay,” Adam said sleepily, heavy eyes already starting to fall shut before Ezra was even back on his feet.

He backed out of the room, and closed the door, feeling a bit more of the resolve he’d started to feel settle around him in the last few months. He closed the door, then returned to the kitchen area where Gabriel was already removing the cork, two wine glasses from the cupboard on the counter.

“I didn’t wake him, did I?” He asked guiltily.

“No, I doubt it,” Ezra assured. “He probably heard the door and thought Eliza was home. I came to realize she hadn’t been on an evening date since he was quite little. Before mum passed, actually. He’s used to being away from her, at nursery and whatnot, but he’s not used to her not being around in the evenings.” 

“At least he has you,” Gabriel said as he wiggled the cork out of the bottle, minimizing the pop of the bottle. He brought the glasses over, beginning to serve.

Ezra sighed. “Yes, he does.” He agreed. “But I’ve been thinking for quite some time about getting a flat of my own.”

“Oh?” Gabriel asked, his voice cracking a bit, and a bit of the liquid hit the side of the wine glass instead of the perfect center pour he’d become practiced at.

“Adam’s getting a bit big to be sharing a room with his mother. And, frankly, I would like to have my solitude back now that Adam’s a bit more… vocal.”

Gabriel chuckled. “Nice way of calling him a chatterbox, Ezra.”

Ezra shrugged one shoulder. “It’s far more difficult to read and relax than it was when he was a babe. And don’t get me wrong, if Eliza insisted she still needed me here, I would oblige her, of course. But tonight… oh, Gabriel, I wish you could have seen her. I haven’t seen Eliza that nervous or excited over a date ever. This man, Gavin, he seems to have really charmed her. And while I do worry that she’ll get hurt as badly as I have in the past, she is so close to falling in love with him already.”

“You think she might have met someone she’s going to want to be with.”

“For the long haul, yes,” Ezra smiled at the thought. “Another reason I should find a place of my own.”

Gabriel handed Ezra the glass of wine, and the two of them headed over to the living area. They sat down on the sofa, the middle cushion between them, though they were both partly turned toward one another.

“You know,” Gabriel started. “I do have a spare room.”

“I couldn’t,” Ezra immediately replied. “I would be going from someone else’s home to another, and many of the same obstacles for privacy would come up.”

“They wouldn’t,” Gabriel assured.

“And when _you_ meet someone, and perhaps wish to take that someone to your home? How will you explain having a roommate in your thirties when it’s not necessary.”

Gabriel grinned. “I wouldn’t have to.” He shrugged.

“You would, dear fellow.”

“Ezra, you know I’m not seeing anyone serious enough for that.”

“But one day, you may.”

Gabriel looked about to say something, then thought better of it. He nodded instead and said. “I may.” He took a sip of his wine, barely able to hide the grimace he had. “I do know that there are a few places near mine.”

Ezra snorted. “Sorry, Gabriel, but I can’t fathom spending that sort of money for a place to live. No, a flat will be just fine for now. Preferably somewhere near the school. 

“You know we have a teacher there now that’s nearly our age.”

“Oh?” Gabriel asked.

“Yes, a Newton Pulsifer. He took over when Binns retired a couple weeks back. A nervous and shy fellow, but quite nice.”

“Is he?” Gabriel asked with a tensed jaw.

“Indeed,” Ezra smirked. “He comes from Surrey every day if you can believe it. I suppose he was having a hard time finding work, I do recall what that’s like. And he’s a maths teacher, like my former beau, David.”

“Mmmm,” Gabriel hummed, and Ezra’s nostrils flared as he noted Gabriel staring at his glass with barely concealed disappointment.

 _He really does fancy you, doesn’t he?_ Ezra thought to himself as he watched Gabriel take another sip of a drink he barely tolerated.

For a fleeting moment, he considered perhaps asking Gabriel if he would like to attempt a proper date, one where they were both fully aware of what was happening. Maybe that was what would be needed to see him as someone more than a friend, to erase the shadow of the single night between them from memory. Maybe it would be beautiful? 

But then the wine in his gut churned, and he found his eyes seeking out the spine of one, particular book on a shelf across the room. 

No. He wouldn’t tempt fate with yet another friend, not after the last time ended so poorly. He was lucky that things with Gabriel hadn’t turned on their head after having done so much more than snog against a kitchen counter. Perhaps it had been age or experience that prevented another apocalyptic end to yet another decade-plus friendship.

Ezra took a drink of his wine, cleared his throat.

“It’s a shame most of the staff think the young man is gay. They keep hinting far too frequently that I’m single, though they fail to realize I intend to _remain_ single for quite some time. Not like it would make a difference either way.”

Gabriel looked at him then, eyes darting over him as though he was sizing him up. “You’re still not dating?”

“No,” Ezra shook his head. “No, I’m just… waiting, I suppose. Waiting to meet someone. I’d like to think that maybe I still have moments left like Eliza had with this Gavin bloke. Of a charming encounter at an unexpected time.”

“Do you approve of him?” Gabriel asked.

Ezra gave him a side-eye, seeing he was serious. “Gabriel, in all the years you’ve known us, when have you ever known Eliza to care if I approved of someone?”

“Good pointed,” Gabriel conceded.

“He makes her smile,” Ezra said after a moment. “He makes her laugh, and she’s as smitten as I’d ever seen her. Her biggest fear was agreeing to this date, and having it turn out terrible and ruining this fragile thing they found. So to answer your question: yes, I suppose I approve of him very, very much.”

~C~

“I don’t want to!” Warlock screamed so shrilly Crowley was sure it had hit a level only dogs could hear. 

He felt a moment of embarrassment, because what would the neighbors think if they’d heard? Despite the flat being essentially soundproof, he still had moments where he felt he and Warlock should be virtually silent lest people around them hear them. 

Then came the guilt, because he frequently ran on guilt these days. 

Finally came frustration, and he leaned on that harder than he should.

“I said get your damn shoes on!” He snapped, ignoring the teary eyes and the pouty lip from his son. “I have to go to work, you need to go to nursery. End of discussion, young man.”

“But I hate nursery!” Warlock stomped.

“Do not stomp your foot at me,” Crowley warned. “I hear you when you say you hate nursery, but we don’t have any other choice. Where else are you gonna go, Lock?”

“I can go with you!” He protested, his little hands balling at his sides.

Crowley huffed, pulling on the short strands of his hair, guilt gnawing at him and threatening to have him cave into the whims of his child. He had to turn away.

Nursery had started in September, and at first, Warlock had liked it. He liked having other kids his own age to do things with, and he liked the independence from Crowley it gave him. But within the last month, things seemed to have changed, and all the meetings he’d had with the teachers and supervisors would not yield an answer. 

It wasn’t that the kids were bullying Warlock, or refusing to work or play with him. It’s just that he wasn’t the first mate they’d go to. Or the second, or even the third. More often than not, Warlock would end up playing by himself, and while he didn’t complain he was clearly bothered by it. There was only so much the teachers could do, and only so much Crowley could do to bolster his spirits. 

“Lock,” He sighed. “It’s not like going to the shop here. Tadfield is a bit away, and it’s bigger. And when I’m there I’m there for physical work, not doing paperwork. I won’t be able to watch you or hang out with you.”

“I can take duck and a couple of toys. And a book!”

“You can’t read,” Crowley smirked.

“I can look at the pictures and remember the story.” Warlock said with a shrug.

Crowley grit his teeth, wanting to find fault with this.

“You’re gonna be bored.” He tried again.

“No, I won’t.” Warlock retorted.

Crowley sighed, looking around the flat, eyes falling on the tall, skinny Christmas tree in the corner. 

It was getting awfully close to the holidays, and while every other parent he knew pulled the whole “Santa won’t come unless you’re good” nonsense, Crowley couldn’t. Warlock wasn’t a bad kid for the most part, and he always felt that if you’re going to have a magical man leave toys for kids, arbitrary measurements of good and bad shouldn’t be a factor of his visits. 

He did, though, believe that it should be a time for family. He couldn’t dwell on the experience he had growing up, it tended to make him more melancholy than a man in his position ought to be for the season. It certainly wasn’t given to him by the people who raised him, and Tony hadn’t been around enough to have that sort of influence. 

Without his meaning to, he remembered a three-person home that was welcome to everyone, but especially those they held dearest. For a split second, he imagined he caught a whiff of mulled wine and homemade cider, of bread, and cookies, and pine, and his heart ached for it.

Holidays were meant to be spent with those you love, and who did he love more than his son? A boy who genuinely didn’t ask for much, and who probably desperately wanted a break from feeling so utterly alone.

Crowley could relate to that.

“You can come.” He relented. “But you have to stay in the back, in the office, _not_ the staff room.” 

The utter joy that lit up Warlock’s face was worth the cave-in, and he ran off to his room to throw things in his bag, calling the whole time that he promised to be good.

Crowley just smiled, feeling only slightly better, but he’d take it.

~A~

“Adam,” Ezra snapped, and the boy stopped dead in his tracks, the “uh-oh” clear in his eyes as he turned to his uncle.

It was the first day of Christmas break, only three days left before the holiday, and Ezra had taken Adam out for a bit of shopping for Eliza. She still had work for a couple of days, and while he could have had Adam and him shop while in London on the weekends with either Oscar and Richard, or on the odd occasion with Gabriel, he could never seem to fit it in.

And he wanted Eliza to have a surprise from her son, something she wouldn’t have expected. 

But the cost was beginning to wear on him.

It was the first Christmas in which Adam really seemed to _get it_. All the magic and expectation. He was becoming an increasingly frustrating ball of energy. 

“Sorry, Uncle Ezra.” Adam apologized, though Ezra doubted very much he knew what he was apologizing for.

He knelt down in front of Adam when he caught up to him, thankfully not a great distance, and took his hand.

“I appreciate that,” Ezra said in a measured tone. “But it is very busy, and a bit icy. You can’t run off, you have to stay close. I would prefer if you hold my hand, but I can’t make you. It’s for your safety that you can’t take off away from me. You wouldn’t do that with mum, would you?”

Adam considered this and shook his head ever so slightly. 

“No, you wouldn’t. And am I any different than mum?”

Adam shook his head, much more certain in this.

“No, I’m not. So you have to listen to me and stay close. Or else, we won’t be having an outing like this again for a while.” Adam nodded. “Now, maybe before we continue on our mission to find the perfect gift for mum, we should stop for a spot of cocoa and maybe a cookie.”

It was a bit backward, of course, giving the child sugar when he was already all over the place. But Ezra figured if he could get Adam in a chair he could talk with him. It was the _other_ reason Ezra had him out and about.

Adam was about to experience a major change in his life, and he knew Eliza hadn’t told him yet. Ezra had wanted to find a pleasant way to ease him into it, and doing something special just them would hopefully help.

They approached a nearby cafe just as someone was backing up against the glass door.

“Here, allow me,” Ezra said when the door was open a crack so as not to throw the lady off balance.

“Oh, thank y- Ezra!” Anathema said cheerfully as she stepped out, a paper tray in her hands, the middle cup very clearly that for a child.

“Hello, my dear,” He said, then nodded to the tray, “trying to find the wonder in the holidays?”

Anathema glanced down in confusion and then laughed, “My boss brought his son with him to work today.”

“Ah, yes.” He nodded, glancing down to Adam. “The holidays have started for him as well?”

“I think so. He’s been bringing him the last couple days.” Anathema replied, then her eyes lit up. “Maybe you can come by, ask him about it.” She said with a strong hint.

“My dear, you know what I’m going to say,” Ezra responded politely.

“Yeah, you’re right.” She shrugged. “Besides, I think said recently he thinks he might’ve met someone, so there’s that. Probably best to let that one lie.”

“Yes, I would say.” Ezra agreed, another person exiting through the open door, another entering, and he suddenly realized he was still holding it. “I won’t keep you.” He said.

“Right,” Anathema said as if suddenly realizing she should be going. “I’ll see you around.” She said before turning around, her skirts flaring around her a moment, and then continuing on down the road toward the Garden.

“Why doesn’t mum bring me to work?” Adam asked as Ezra ushered him inside.

“Because mum works _for_ people, and she can’t well have you there. Miss Anathema’s boss runs his shop, so he can bring his boy when he likes. Plus, it’s very likely an older boy. Now, what shall we get?”

They ordered, and Ezra found them a table by the window where they could watch the snow slowly fall, and the people passing by doing their holiday shopping.

“Adam,” He began. “Has mum talked to you about changes that might happen?”

“Mmmhmm,” Adam nodded, kicking his little legs about since they didn’t touch the floor where he sat in the chair. He did, however, not swing them so far or so hard as to dirty Ezra’s pant legs. “Mum told me she got a boyfriend. And that that means she might be out with him sometimes and I’ll be with you. But not to worry because she will always love me more.”

Ezra smirked. “I’m glad she brought him up, but that’s not the changes I mean.” He said gently.

Adam frowned. 

Ezra cleared his throat. “You’re becoming quite the big boy, aren’t you?” He started, and Adam nodded proudly. “And I think a big boy like you should have his space. And, well, you’ve gotten so big that mum doesn’t need quite as much help with you as she used to, does she?”

Adam’s frown deepened. “Whaddya mean?”

“Well, I mean, you’re not a baby. Baby’s are a lot more work to keep safe and happy than a strapping young lad like you. A baby, for instance, doesn’t pick up their own toys after playtime, or eat without their mum helping them.”

“Suppose,” Adam nodded.

“Well, I lived with you and mum because mum needed help. But most people don’t have their uncles live with them.”

“No,” Adam said somewhat somberly. “Most got mums and dads.”

“Yes,” Ezra agreed. “So I helped where I could. But now, I’m not needed around as much. And while I love you, and I love your mum, I think it’s time that I live apart from you like an uncle normally does.”

Adam looked utterly crestfallen. “So I’m not going to get to see you anymore?” He asked in a small voice that shattered Ezra’s heart.

“Oh, Adam, my darling boy, that’s not what I’m saying at all,” Ezra replied, opening his arms for Adam to walk into them.

He hopped off his chair and stood between Ezra’s legs, letting his uncle hold him while he listened.

“You and I will still have our Saturday adventures, and I will still be the one to watch you while mum is out with Gavin, or miss Anathema, or whoever. The only difference is that I won’t be there every night to tuck you in, and I won’t be the one to make you breakfast in the morning.”

“I don’t want you to go,” Adam said softly. “I want you around.”

“And I love that you do,” Ezra smiled, squeezing a little tighter. “But you’ll see, you won’t miss me as much as you think you will. Because while I won’t live there with you, you’ll only see me just a little less.”

Adam was quiet a moment before he mumbled, “okay.”

“Okay,” Ezra said, kissing him on the head and letting him go back to his cocoa. 

“You promise we’ll still do fun things together?” Adam asked, looking at his cup.

“I promise,” Ezra swore, already making a mental note of everything he could do with his nephew. “And it will make them that much more fun when we don’t see each other often.”

Adam pursed his lips and twisted his mouth a moment before giving a single, solitary nod. 

Ezra breathed a sigh of relief, hoping that his word held true.

“Now. What shall we get mum, eh?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be finishing the last chapter tomorrow as it's too late where I am to be tweaking what must be done. I'm still probably going to space the last few chapters a couple days apart to give me some time to start some of the What if's.
> 
> Chapter title from "Stay (I missed you) by Lisa Loeb


	37. There'll Be Twists and Turns to Pull At Us

**2019**

“When are you coming to pick us up tomorrow?” Adam asked from the backseat.

“And will papa come too?” Warlock added before Crowley could respond.

“Yes, papa will come when it’s time to get you tomorrow, which will be around noon, alright?” Crowley responded, sounding more annoyed than he actually was.

Truth be told, he liked that the boys would rather be with them than their grandfather. He liked that they would have rather spent a day at home with them, even if nothing exciting happened. But Ezra had a lot of marking to do, and a few lesson plans to make for when he was with Crowley during the hearing. And they were expecting Lucas for dinner that night to go over things with them, as well as have a look at the papers Crowley had been able to obtain. If that hadn’t been enough, Erica had asked to speak with Crowley alone as soon as possible the night before, and so he arranged to meet with her while Ezra would be busy. 

Much as he hated to admit it, it would be easier to deal with all this while the boys were out of the way.

The boys seemed pleased enough with his responses, so he let the subject drop.

It wasn’t terribly long after that that they were pulling off the motorway and into Crowley and Ezra’s home town. 

It was the first time he’d been here without Ezra since the proposal, and he marveled at how he was no longer struck with a hit of melancholy at the sight of their old haunts. 

He was, however, becoming increasingly nervous as they got closer to Tony’s place.

Crowley pulled into the driveway, cut the engine, got out, got the boys out, and grabbed their bags from the trunk. And while he’d done that, Tony had come out of the house, excitedly greeting the boys who ran to him for a hug. He smiled, thanking whoever was listening and watching that Adam had taken so well to this whole change in family over the last few months. 

He hoped Warlock could adapt as easily.

“AJ,” Tony called as he carried the duffel bags to the house. “You don’t have to bring those in, I’m sure you’ll want to be getting back to whatever.”

“Actually, I want to talk to you altogether, if that’s alright.” He said, shuffling his feet without meaning to. 

Tony frowned but nodded. He gestured with his head for Crowley to follow them inside as he put an arm around each of the boys and led them all inside. 

Crowley brought the bags to the room he knew the boys would be sleeping in, dropping them at the foot of the large double bed, and then returned to the sitting room where he heard Tony telling the boys to wait a moment.

He popped in, smiling nervously as he took the armchair closest to the sofa where the boys sat with Tony, Adam looking particularly nervous.

Crowley had no idea where to begin, he only knew that with everything happening, he had to be upfront to all of them.

“Lock,” he began, meeting his son’s eyes. “You know how Nana lived with Grampy James, but a lot of the time she would be here with Tony, right?” He asked.

Lock frowned. “Yeah.” He said, sounding unsure.

“Well, there’s a very good reason for that,” He said, fidgeting similar to Ezra.

“AJ,” Tony started.

“Dad,” He said, asking for patience. 

Tony was taken aback by being so casually addressed like that in front of the kids. He blinked rapidly then nodded slowly.

Adam and Warlock looked at one another in growing confusion.

Crowley started again. “The reason is is because Nan and Tony are very good friends.”

“Like you and Aunt Nathema?” Warlock asked.

“Bit more.” He replied. “See… umm…. Tony and Nan were such good friends that he helped her have me.”

“Like a man helped my mum have me?” Adam asked.

“Yes!” Crowley said, gesturing to Adam. “Yes, like that. But, see, she was married to Grampy James, I always called _him_ dad. And you would have called him Grampy because it’s what’s done. But, see… he and Nan aren’t married anymore. So, so we’re not going to be seeing Grampy James again.”

“Why not?” Warlock asked. 

“Because he doesn’t like Ezra.”

“How can he not like papa?” Warlock asked, wide-eyed.

“He doesn’t like when people love people he thinks they shouldn’t.” Crowley shook his head and shrugged. “And Ezra loves me, and I love him, and he really doesn’t like that. So, you’re not going to have Grampy James anymore. But,” He glanced at Tony and found his words wouldn’t come.

Tony was crying, very quietly, with such hope shining in his eyes and a smile trying very hard not to show.

“Tony’s gonna be our grampa now, right?” Adam asked.

Crowley nodded slowly, keeping his eyes on his father. “Yeah,” he choked out. “Yeah, he’s going to be your grampa now. He sorta always was, he just couldn’t say it.”

“So,” Warlock puzzled as Tony let out a bit of a sob. He ignored Adam trying to comfort the man and tilted his head to the side as if it would help him think. “Does that mean Chrissy and Neil, and Terry are our aunts and uncles?”

“Yeah,” Crowley laughed, “yeah it does.”

“AJ, you don’t have to,” Tony said, sniffling.

Crowley’s smile grew smaller again. “Lock, Adam, can you give me and gramps a second?”

The boys scooted off the sofa, heading down the hall talking about a board game that was somewhere in the house, leaving the two men alone.

Crowley rubbed his hands on his jeans. “It should have always been you as grampa.” He stated. “James never gave a shit about Warlock aside from the fact that it meant I slept with a woman.”

“Why now?” Tony asked. “Erica left him over a month ago now.”

“It’s like I told the boys: he doesn’t want me and Ezra together.”

Tony nodded, “I suppose I shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth.” He chuckled.

“Yeah,” Crowley smirked. “Besides, you get to grandsons out of the deal.”

Tony nodded, then glanced at the hallway. “Your mother isn’t talking to me lately.” He said quietly. “Won’t return my calls or anything. Last time she did that, she was having you. And after that, it was only polite consults from one Doctor to another until the day your appendix decided to burst.” 

Crowley rubbed at his eyes a second. “She hadn’t really been in contact with me either, least not until the other day. Asked me to meet up with her, wanted to talk. ‘S where I’m going next, actually. Figured I’d give Ezra some quiet time to get work done before my lawyer comes over for dinner tonight.”

“What do you need a lawyer for?” Tony asked as the two of them got up, slowly heading toward the front door.

“James is suing me for his share of the Garden in London.”

Tony’s eyes widened. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner, I could have-”

Crowley held up a hand and stopped him. “I already got this lecture from Ezra when I didn’t tell him for a week. I learned my lesson. But, dad, really, there isn’t anything you could have done to help. Lucas, the lawyer, helped us get around James possibly getting _everything_ , and I have a way to make sure that, if he does win, he doesn’t get to have any sway on me. I’ll be free of him, one way or another, come Tuesday.”

Tony nodded slowly. “At least there’s that.” He said.

“Yeah,” Crowley smirked. He then clapped his hand on Tony’s shoulder. “See you noon tomorrow?”

“See you then,” Tony said, pulling his son in for a quick hug before letting Crowley get on with his next visit. 

“Right,” Crowley said before calling out, “Boys, I’m leaving!”

“Bye, dad!” They chorused, and he smiled before stepping out and heading to the Bentley.

~*~  
  


“Burning enough bloody petrol today,” Crowley grumbled to himself as he pulled into his mother’s home in London. 

He had to stop for a coffee before getting back on the motorway. Caffeine likely wasn’t the best thing to calm the nerves, but it was comforting. Despite having sort of dreamed of Tony taking his rightful title of Grandpa from the moment Warlock was born, Crowley still had felt rattled by the whole experience. He wondered if that’s what it was like to come out, as a proper “sit down and tell the parents you like men” coming out instead of the disaster that was his “someone saw you kiss that new boy around town, care to tell me what the fuck that was” experience. 

Yet despite the minor shaking that followed, Crowley felt like a heavy, weighted blanket had been shed from his shoulders. That was an aspect of his life he no longer had to hide. 

It had him thinking of ways he could rid himself completely of James Crowley after Tuesday should things not go his way. He’d have to tell Bea, of course, as they were still being painfully stubborn, but that might mean getting to hear fun stories of the torture they’d inflict on James from time to time.

With a bit of a grin on his lips, Crowley sauntered up to the door, knocked quickly, and then went inside.

It felt different. He hadn’t realized how much of James’ presence permeated the house before, but there were enough subtle, small changes that nothing about it felt familiar. Entering Ezra’s flat for the first time had felt less like walking into a stranger’s home than this. 

“Mum?” He called, almost afraid to hear someone he didn’t know answer back.

“In here,” Erica’s voice called, momentarily giving Crowley a sense of relief before he processed her tone. It _sounded_ cheerful, but there was something underneath it that gave him a terrible feeling.

He braced himself, unsure what he was about to walk into, and headed into the sitting room.

Crowley found his mum in the chair James had always occupied, sitting almost eerily like he would. Hands on the arms, back straight like the chair was a throne. 

She gestured for Crowley to sit on the sofa, before leaning forward to prepare him a cup of tea. It was oddly strange in color, smelled a little weird, but all that was nothing in the face of the fact that Erica Crowley didn’t make tea.

“What’s all this, then?” He asked wearily, eying the liquid like it was poison. “Laying the hospitality on a bit thick today.”

Erica glanced up at him, “What do you mean?” She asked with a weird pitch to her voice.

“You don’t make bloody tea, and you certainly don’t use the bloody tea service for an everyday cuppa, so what’s going on? Got James suing me, you want in on the pot, too? Was partly your money, wasn’t it?”

Erica set the teapot down, abandoning the poured tea in favor of sitting back in the chair with her shoulders back and her chin held high.

“I want you to give him what he wants.” She said simply.

Crowley snorted. “Hand him the deed now?”

“No, I mean I want you to call off the engagement.” She said simply, easily, like she was asking him to finish preparing their cups.

Crowley blinked at her, scowling. “You … you _like_ Ezra. You were _happy_ for us. Why this sudden shift, what do you get out of it?”

“I get you not being an idiot.” She said bluntly. “Look, yes, I like Ezra. He’s a great man, and he’s always been a great friend. I’m glad you two got together after all your pining and what not-”

“This is an awfully big shift in attitude, so I’m gonna ask again: what do you get out of this? If I go home right now, tell Ezra marriage isn’t happening, what happens to you?”

She pursed her lips. “I get the house.” She said simply. “And I get spousal support. Plus he’ll withdraw his suit.” 

Crowley’s nostrils flared, then he snickered, “So you waited until, what, three or four days out before deciding to go after me?”

“I didn’t know until just before I called you,” She said, sounding bitter. “Which is a fantastic way to find out what my ex-husband has been up to, by the way. Didn’t hear it from _you_.”

“Right, well, I figured you had enough on your hands, what with the divorce and all. And what would you have said then, eh?”

“To call the damn thing off!” Erica said as she threw her hands out to the side.

“Why?” Crowley asked, scowling deeper. “Why should I let him win?”

“Because Ezra Fell is just a man,” Erica retorted like it was obvious. “Listen to your father-”

“He is not-”

“James, whatever. Listen to him, and you would have kept everything you worked for, been comfortable.”

“And I would have been heartbroken.” Crowley pointed out.

Erica waved it off. “You got over him once, you’d do it again.” She said casually.

Anthony shook his head. “I didn’t get over him, I never got over him.”

“You slept with other people, had a baby with a woman-”

“My married friend-”

“And see, she didn’t abandon everything to run off with you, did she? Her and I, we have that in common at least. Except she had the good sense to ask you if you wanted Warlock, instead of thinking it a great idea to try and pass him off as her husband’s.”

Crowley scoffed. “Yeah, we both know dad wouldn’t have been able to take me on his own. Don’t try and pull that.” He crossed his arms. “You could have left James and raised me with him.”

“And would you have had as good a life as you had?” She countered. “Think of how you never wanted for anything, think of how you were set for school. Hell, had you _just_ kept your dalliances with boys quiet, you would have had your money that much sooner.”

“Yeah, real good life that would’ve been, mum. Have to hide every bit of who I am, bow to the whims of a man who isn’t even my dad so I could keep it all and get it sooner. Hell, that was the life I had anyway. If I’d have been smarter, I’d have washed my hands of him the moment he pushed me out of Oxford.”

“You wouldn’t have had anything to fall back on.” Erica pointed out, softening her tone. “You’d have had to drop out of school, get a job.”

“Yeah,” Crowley said. “And I would have tried to find one in Oxford, be close to Ezra. Or I could have gone and lived with his sister in London for a bit, she’d have let me. I had choices, I was just too stupid to realize it.”

“Anthony,” Erica huffed. “It’s… just call it off.”

“No.” He said with a shrug. “I’m not going to live like you, mum. You loved Tony, you did. You might still do, I dunno. But you made the choice to let him go. You made the choice to stay with James, because he was a family friend’s son, and you two had been together forever. You made the choice to live comfortably, I’m choosing different. I’m choosing to make sure James Crowley is as gone from my life as he can be.”

Erica held his eye for a long time, then nodded sinking back in the chair. 

“I suppose I should be proud, you doing better than me.” She grumbled. “It’s just… can’t you do this one thing? It’s not like you have to actually break up. Just don’t get married.”

“No.”

“Not even so I can keep the house?”

“No.” Crowley laughed mirthlessly. “You left him, finally. This is the consequence. And what do you even want this house for anyway?” He asked, gesturing around at it. “It’s not like it’s in real close proximity to the hospital. Hardly like you have some sort of sentimental attachment to it.”

“I hate moving.” She grumbled.

Crowley gaped at her. “You wanted me to call off my engagement to the man I’ve loved since I was fourteen years old because you hate moving?” He asked incredulously.

“Well don’t say it like that,” Erica protested. “You make me sound petty.”

“Mum, I love you, but you _are_ petty. You’re petty and self-absorbed, and I’m afraid you’re just going to have to realize that you aren’t always going to get what you want. How I learned that lesson and you haven’t is beyond me.”

For a long, uncomfortable stretch, neither of them said anything. Crowley opted to look around the room, noting that there were no family pictures of any variety up on the wall, not even of Warlock. It all felt so flat, so lifeless. It certainly didn’t feel like a home. 

“I do like Ezra,” Erica said after a bit. “I do like him, and I am glad you two are happy together. I just couldn’t imagine loving someone enough to…. I guess my idea of happy and yours are somehow different, is all.”

“You can’t tell me that after not having dad in your life for all those years, after not seeing him for, what, fourteen? That you didn’t want to just seize that second chance with both hands and run with it?”

He turned and met his mother’s eyes, seeing them confused.

“I never got a second chance.” She said. “He’s married. It’s an unconventional marriage, sure, but it’s a marriage nonetheless. He can’t ever give me what we could have had.” She shrugged. “But if I’m honest… I don’t know if I would have.”

Crowley nodded, and for a fraction of a second, he actually felt bad for her. But it passed, and while he didn’t like her very much at the moment, he knew she was his mum and he would continue to love her even if it took a while for him to like her again. 

It might be a long time before they get back to that point, but he knew that their relationship tended to ebb and flow, and eventually she would come around and be the mum he needed for her to be at least for a while.

For something to do, he leaned forward and picked up the tea, bringing it as far as just under his nose before he wrenched the cup away, sloshing a little over the rim. “What the bloody hell is that?” He asked.

Erica frowned at the cup. “I was almost out of black, green, and chamomile so I blended the three.”

Crowley didn’t say anything, he merely set the cup down and pulled out his phone to find the nearest cafe where they could sit with a proper cup together.

~A~

It was getting later in the afternoon, and Ezra was finally finishing the last of the work he’d been putting off in favor of reading and time with Anthony over the last week. His husband-to-be called about an hour ago to inquire what Ezra planned to make for dinner, and promised to pick up the ingredients as well as a few surprise treats from the city.

He was contemplating a cup of tea when he heard a knock on the door. Ezra double-checked the time, seeing it was still far too early for it to be Lucas, but went to investigate anyway.

“Ah, Gabriel,” He said as he opened the door, giving his friend a slight smile. “Unlike you to come to the house.”

“Yeah,” He agreed, coming in when Ezra stepped aside to let him. “I thought of maybe just calling, but I was in the area.”

“It’s fine, dear fellow,” Ezra remarked as he closed the door, then went to the table to finish gathering his papers. “As it is, you caught me at an excellent time. I was just finishing up some things, and was going to put the kettle on.”

Gabriel frowned, “Were you… grading?” He asked.

“I was, yes,” Ezra said as he took the stack of papers and put them in his briefcase and closed it. “It’s been a bit of a busy week here, and I hadn’t gotten around to it.” He put on the kettle and began to gather what was needed for fixing a couple of cups of tea.

After a few moments, Gabriel said, perplexed, “Why is it so quiet in here?”

Ezra chuckled. “Ah, yes. Anthony took the boys to his father’s for the weekend. Then he went to meet his mother in London. He’s likely on his way back, actually.”

“Huh,” Gabriel said, and Ezra turned to see him standing by the table looking rather torn. “Is it… do you two do that often? Send the boys off for the weekend?”

“No,” Ezra replied. “But we’re expecting a… well I suppose you could say we’re having a work dinner for someone Anthony is currently working with. He’s not terribly fond of children, and we also thought it best if we didn’t have the boys around to listen in, nosy as they are.”

Ezra thought it best not to mention the man was Lucas or anything else in relation to the lawsuit. It was, in a way, bad enough that Gabriel was aware that Ezra was the owner of the Tadfield shop on paper.

“So things are… they’re good?” He asked, not looking at Ezra.

“As they can be,” Ezra replied, sounding as perplexed as he felt. “What’s the matter, ol’ chap?”

Gabriel sighed, then pulled out a chair. Before he could answer, the kettle was ready, and Ezra turned back to fix their tea.

Once the cups were fixed, he brought them to the table, then took a seat adjacent to Gabriel. 

Gabriel looked at his cup rather than reaching for it, and Ezra waited him out, taking a sip of his own.

“I’m… I’m going to move back to London.” Gabriel finally managed.

“Really?” Ezra asked.

“Yeah,” He said. “I mean… I came here for you. And I know, I _know,_ you never asked me to. I know, but I did it anyway because I had hoped, for a very long time, that I would be the one you chose. I hoped that maybe being closer would help, especially after…. But it’s been a few years, and it’s clear you’re pretty set on Crowley.”

“I am,” Ezra nodded once. “But I have been since he came back into my life. And more so-”

“I know, you made it clear, time and again, that you didn’t want me. I get it, I do, sunshine. I never wanted to, because that meant….” He sighed, rubbing his forehead. “I took one look at you and loved you. And I wanted… I expected… it’s just…,” He huffed. 

“I understand,” Ezra said soothingly, though made no move to physically reassure. “But why _now_?”

Gabriel looked at him and smiled sadly. “Tadfield doesn’t hold the appeal it used to, is all.”

Ezra nodded slowly, sensing there was likely more that Gabriel wasn’t saying, but didn’t ask. And even if he thought to, the front door opened.

“Angel, I’m home,” Anthony called, the rustling of a paper bag heard from the entryway.

Ezra stood, setting down the teacup and going to help.

“Oh, goodness, Anthony.” He said upon seeing the two paper bags filled with groceries. “I told you I already had some of the things we needed.”

“I know,” Anthony replied, kissing the corner of Ezra’s mouth as Ezra took one of the bags to lessen the burden. “But I also grabbed a chocolate cake from a bakery I used to pop into from time to time. Thought you’d like it, even if Lu-”

“Gabriel’s here,” Ezra said quietly.

“Thought I saw the wanker’s car on the curb,” Anthony grumbled, but followed Ezra back into the kitchen and dining area with a smile. “Gabe,” He called in greeting. “How are things?”

“He was just telling me he was planning on relocating back to London,” Ezra said as they set the bags down on the counter.

“Is he now?” Anthony said, sounding genuinely intrigued. He turned to Gabriel, leaning back against the counter and crossing his arms. “I may just have a business proposition for you.” 

Ezra frowned, turning to look between the two men, seeing Gabriel’s genuine surprise and Anthony’s genuine grin.

“Y-you do?” Gabriel asked, looking briefly to Ezra for guidance he couldn’t give.

“Yeah, see. I’m facing a bit of a legal… thing.” Anthony said, waving his hand around. 

“What are you playing at?” Ezra asked him, frowning.

“Relax, angel, I got this,” Anthony assured him before moving to take the seat Ezra had before. “See, my adopted dad’s being a bit of a dick. By Wednesday, I may not have full ownership of my shop in London. Now, I know the man, I know he’ll try and go for all of it if he gets at least what he feels is his share, and frankly, I think it might be fun to fuck him over if that’s the case.”

Gabriel pressed his tongue to the inside of his cheek, then made a sort of clicking noise before sitting back and crossing his legs and folding his hands in his lap. “What did you have in mind?” He asked, revealing a side of himself Ezra had never seen. Gabriel’s voice had even deepened to something more booming than normal, and Ezra was utterly fascinated.

And as he looked to Anthony, he watched his fiance shift as well. He sat up straight, resting one hand on the table in a pantomime of casual, his own voice becoming something very different.

“If this all goes pear-shaped for me, I want to sell you my share of the Garden. At a reasonable price, of course, probably even lower than it’s current worth.” Anthony put the offer forward. “James Crowley will approach you to buy out the rest of it, at which point that decision will be entirely up to you. The man has seen the profit and loss reports for the shop for a couple years now, and is certain enough of the quality and reputation that he sends his interns to it to purchase flowers for his girlfriends. You could sell your share, which might be as low as forty percent, just so you’re aware. Or, you could hold on to it. As of right now, the person who had been my partner from the beginning refuses to leave. They know what’s about to happen, and they’re encouraging the underlings to jump ship if it goes south. But, they’re just enough of a… well, of a B to stay on board and make James Crowley’s life hell. They _will_ be the thing that keeps the business afloat, but they don’t have quite the breadth of knowledge as I do.”

“Why not offer to sell your share to them, then?” Gabriel asked.

“Bea doesn’t want it,” Crowley replied. “Never has. Bea could have had a share in it right from the beginning. They just want to work with the plants, that’s all. They have no want or desire to run the business or be responsible for it.”

“And what makes you think I would?” Gabriel asked.

“You’ve got the know-how. And while I know you’re more of a trading sort of bloke, I think this would be a nice little niche hobby for you.”

“It’s an interesting offer you put out,” Gabriel said placidly, his face not unlike one a poker player would have. “And I understand wanting to get out from underneath the man’s thumb. But, what if he offers to sell me his share?”

Anthony scoffed. “You might be able to pull the wool over his eyes, I suppose. But the moment he makes a comment about a woman, and you don’t respond _exactly_ the way he thinks you should, he won’t let you touch it. Oh, he won’t come after you the way he did me. He didn’t raise you, you don’t have his name, and you’re currently not about to marry a man.”

“It’s what it boils down to, does it?”

“Essentially.”

“And how much will it bother you if I do sell him my share?”

“Only in so much that I think you’d be able to help Bea, but they’re tough, and they can stand up to James Crowley well enough. If it comes to it, they know they have a spot with me here in Tadfield.”

Gabriel stared a very long time and moved only enough for his chest to rise and fall. Therefore, when he moved forward to offer Anthony his hand, Ezra was physically startled. 

“You have a deal,” Gabriel said, and Anthony took his hand.

“I’ll keep you abreast of what’s happening. And when my lawyer comes by tonight, I will tell him to have a document drawn up at the ready should it come to that.”

“Am I actually witnessing this?” Ezra asked, more to himself than the others. “Is this … I almost think I’ve had dreams about this?”

“About what, angel?” Anthony asked, letting go of Gabriel’s hand. 

“Of the pair of you getting along.” 

“Let’s not push it, sunshine,” Gabriel said as he got up from the table. “I’ll leave you two to get ready for your company.” He said as he headed for the door.

“It was nice having you,” Ezra called, only catching Gabriel’s wave before he darted out the door. When it was closed, Ezra looked to Anthony. “This is the strangest afternoon I’ve had in a while.”

“Wait until I tell you mine,” Anthony replied as he got up from the table. “Need a hand?”

“Oh, yes,” Ezra said, and the pair of them began working together to put things away and prepare for Lucas.

~*~

“I think we’ll have what we need,” Lucas said as he looked over everything he and Anthony had gathered over the last week. 

They decided to have dinner first, and while some topics seemed oddly rough (Lucas’ partner, for instance. He wouldn’t say her name for anything), overall the men conversed with ease like old friends. Once the dishes were cleared, though, it became about business. 

“I can’t promise you a good outcome.” Lucas continued. “The judge assigned to oversee everything, while not conservative, is very much of a literal mind. He may judge on James’ side just because the money used _was_ from him. But he’s not going to weigh your choice of partner against you. That may actually be something that could, at least, cause James to have less than he’d like.”

“I thought a judge had to be fair?” Ezra asked as he took a sip of his wine.

“They do, but they are human,” Lucas replied. “They try not to bring their own, personal biases in, but they do tend to leak through. Like, for instance, you may know of a student who had a sibling who was quite rowdy. You wouldn’t outright assume, or at least I hope you wouldn’t, that the sibling currently in your class would be the same. But maybe you might watch them a little more than the others.”

“I suppose you’re right.” Ezra agreed, and Anthony smirked at him. “I haven’t consciously done it.” He defended himself.

“No, suppose you didn’t.” Anthony agreed.

“Excuse me!” Ezra said, affronted, and Anthony laughed.

“Angel, you were wary of me when we first met because of who you saw me with. Don’t lie, I know you were.”

“I was,” he grumbled. Then he turned to Lucas. “So the judge won’t be against Anthony because of me, but are there other ways he could lose?”

“If you’re wondering if anything in Anthony’s appearance might make a judge leery….”

“Are you talking about my eyes?” Anthony asked, narrowing them.

Lucas blinked, staring at Anthony who currently had his brown lenses in. “Umm… why would I?”

“Those aren’t his natural ones,” Ezra said as Anthony left the room, mumbling something about getting the lens case. 

“Alright,” Lucas said, uncertain. “I merely meant that he wasn’t expected to cut his hair, or cover his tattoo.”

“Oh, hadn’t even thought of that,” Ezra said as Anthony returned, showing the case to Lucas before plunking down in his chair and opening it up. He then proceeded to remove his left lens, a process Ezra couldn’t really watch but Lucas seemed fascinated by.

“Oh!” Came the man’s exclamation, and Ezra looked up to see the odd combination of Anthony’s proper eye alongside of the one still hidden under the dark brown coloring. 

“Should I go like this, or?” Anthony asked, gesturing to the left side of his face.

“Umm….” Lucas blinked. “Best not. Might be seen as you wearing contacts… except… bloody hell, did anyone ever tell you those are very reptilian?”

Crowley laughed before reaching up to take out the other. “Yeah, got a lotta looks growing up. Didn’t bother hiding them until I couldn’t get a job, though.”

“Forgive me for asking, but why do you keep them covered up at your own shop?”

Anthony shrugged. “Makes people uncomfortable.”

“I suppose there’s that.” Lucas agreed, staring still. He shook himself. “As I was saying to Ezra, you don’t need to change anything about your look. Well, anything else. Just show up on Tuesday clean and professional.”

“Figured as much.” Crowley nodded.

Lucas drained the last of his wine, then set the glass on the table. “We should meet there, at the courthouse, about a half-hour before you’re scheduled. And when you’re there, regardless of what he might say, don’t talk to James.”

Anthony snorted. “Easy enough.”

“Would it be a hindrance if I were there?” Ezra asked as Lucas rose.

“No.” He replied. “You wouldn’t be able to sit in on the proceedings, these things are usually done in a sort of conference room setting. But if you were to go to the courthouse, wait for Anthony, be seen there supporting him, one never knows if that will somehow make a difference.”

“And you’ll have the contract done up, the sale bit, ready to go for that bloke to sign?” Anthony asked.

“You tell me the price you two settle on. If Tuesday ends poorly, I can have the papers to you by Wednesday.”

“Thank you, again, Lucas, for all you’ve done,” Ezra said as he followed him to the door.

“It’s what family does,” Lucas said as if it was merely a line he’d been taught. Still, he smiled genuinely at Ezra as he got on his jacket. “I do wish things between Liza and I could have worked out. I’d like to think if we hadn’t had such different desires, we could have made something.”

Ezra wasn’t sure if it was romantic thinking on Lucas’ part, or if they really had had something special she’d kept quiet from the family. Either way, he smiled and nodded, because it was rather pointless to try and say otherwise at this point, and then bid goodnight to Lucas.

“It’ll all be over soon, one way or another,” Anthony commented as Ezra returned to the table.

“It will,” Ezra agreed. “And then, perhaps, we can finally move on to happier things.”

“Mmm,” Anthony hummed, smirking up at Ezra. “All this will be a blip, won’t it? In the grand scheme of things.” 

“It will be,” Ezra agreed. “I wish I could say that there would be no more rough patches.”

“Isn’t that part of the vows?” Anthony teased. “Better or worse and all that.”

“It is,” Ezra smirked. “As is richer or poorer, but you had forgotten that bit for a moment.”

“Hey, now.” Anthony chided without heat. He grabbed Ezra’s arm, pulling him down in his lap, holding him enough to bury his face in Ezra’s neck. “Get you in the end, all that matters. You and the boys.”

“I agree wholeheartedly,” Ezra said, turning to place a kiss on Anthony's head before looking at the papers scattered on the table.

It felt like one last hurdle, but finally, one they were prepared for. And in only a matter of days, it would be past them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will (as of now and very likely will remain so) 7 What-ifs that will follow this fic. I created a series to keep everything together.  
> Until next time
> 
> Chapter title from "Alter the Ending" by Dashboard Confessional


	38. Guess It's Half Timing And The Other Half's Luck

**2018**

It was almost too quiet. 

There was not endless chatter or the sound of toys. There was no one else breathing softly in the same space, no subtle sound of a turning page or a click of a computer mouse to break through the silence. Without trying, Ezra could easily hear the traffic outside, and it was that alone that kept him from going entirely mad on the nights he didn’t turn on the gramophone. 

He loved having his own space, despite how small that space was. A simple, small kitchen, a small living room, a bedroom that barely held more than his bed and dresser, and a bathroom one could barely turn in. But it was his. Yes, he had to leave a large collection of his books at Eliza’s until he could possibly find a bigger space for a reasonable price. Yes, it was drafty and quiet, and he loathed the idea that maybe he got a bit swindled. But for the first time in nearly four years, he had his own space again.

But damn it all did he _miss_ Adam and Eliza. 

He missed having his nephew tell him every single second of his day, of having him climb up on his lap at bedtime with a book or three because Ezra always did the voices better. He missed having Eliza complain that she’d been the one in drama in school, and he missed her gentle teasing afterward. He missed early mornings around the breakfast table with Adam, talking about what the day might hold, and he missed the glass of wine with his sister in the evening when she bitched about work or chatted about Gavin.

That, he reminded himself, was another very good reason to leave the flat and venture out on his own. Gavin and Eliza had been together for nearly six months now, and that was the absolute longest she had ever been with anyone in her entire life. 

She was moving forward, she was building a life. He had to give her space for that.

And, maybe, it was time he did the same.

It was why he left one very particular book at Eliza’s flat, making her swear on her child’s life that it would remain there. Because while he decided to not bring it with him, decided that maybe he could start letting little pieces of that past go, he couldn’t bear to see it go entirely. He wanted to be able to come back for it in a year or two, to hold it and only feel fondness. He wanted to still hold on to that relic of his past.

It was also why he decided that he would put himself out there again. He hadn’t been on a date since before the Gabriel incident, and while the man in question did actually tend to see people here and there, Ezra was beginning to think that if he didn’t start seeking out a romantic connection again, he may well just give in and decide to give his friend a proper chance.

No, he simply had to get back on the horse.

He just wouldn’t allow one Miss Anathema Device to set him up.

For one, the man she wanted him to meet was a ginger, and that would _never_ do. For another, he would have rather be set up by someone who knew him in more than just passing. She was Eliza’s friend, and while he spoke to Anathema and liked her well enough, they didn’t really know anything about one another aside from what Eliza might have shared.

He would trust Richard and Oscar to arrange a date if he ended up not meeting anyone on his own. 

But that did require socializing, didn’t it?

Ezra sighed, looked at the book in his lap, and realized his mind had wandered in the quiet again, and he’d forgotten not only where he left off, but what was transpiring in the book. 

He set it aside, went to his very small kitchen, and made himself a cup of tea.

~C~

“You should come to Tadfield for drinks sometime,” Anathema said as she and Crowley headed back to his flat in Mayfair after drinks with Bea and Dagon. 

She’d been taking the train down to see them after shift on Saturday and would spend the night on Crowley’s couch before heading home. It was a routine that Crowley may have been clinging to a bit too much as of late, especially as May came in.

“Maybe,” He grumbled. “But, I dunno. Can’t always get someone to watch Lock, especially overnight.”

“He can stay at my place.” She said cheerfully.

“He’s three, he needs someone with him.” He scowled.

Anathema shook the arm she clung to. “I mean _we_ could stay at my place. I have friends-”

“No,” He said flatly. 

“Oh, please,” Anathema grumbled. “Liz’s a hoot, you’ll like her.”

“I’m good, thanks.” He smirked. 

“She’s got a brother,” Anathema sing-songed.

“Definitely _no_.” Anthony retorted emphatically. “Your taste in men and mine is very, very different.”

“Well, I wouldn’t date him.” Anathema frowned.

“Of course you wouldn’t, he’s gay. Unless he’s not?”

Anathema tilted her head. “He wasn’t opposed to the idea of seeing a guy.”

“Yeah,” Crowley winced. “Look, appreciate the offer, but I want to try and find someone else on my own, alright?” He said as he pulled out his keys when they came up to his building. “Besides, I’m not pulling any sorta long-distance thing, okay?”

“I can respect that.” She grumbled, her own relatively recent disaster of a long-distance relationship probably fresh in her mind. It hadn’t been that long ago the bloke she had been seeing before coming to England had finally confessed that he never intended to join her. The plants seemed to have perked up just a bit more after her screaming tirade in Spanish, which made Crowley briefly wonder if his own bitching and growling at them was actually one of the reasons his plants had always been the best.

Frankly, he thought it was the fertilizer, but he supposed a little threat here and there didn’t hurt them.

They went inside and upstairs, and once inside the flat, Anathema moved to the couch and fell backward on it. She closed her eyes and sighed while Crowley went to the fridge to grab a glass of water. He nearly went to the Warlock’s room to check on him, only to remind himself that he was with Erica. He’d already gotten a text from his mum containing a picture of his boy sound asleep, but it was still an impulse that he had a hard time smothering.

“AJ,” Anathema said without opening her eyes. “I have a question, might be personal.”

“Alright.” He said, heading into the living space with the waters, sitting in one of the armchairs, and looking at his friend stretched out on the sofa.

“You have a day marked off coming up, and when I asked Bea about it, they said you always take it off, and if I bother you on it, they’ll bring down a world of pain.” Anathema cracked one eye open. “Anything you want to tell me?”

“It’s a personal day for a reason, Device.” He retorted.

“Yes, but why the same day every year? Is it an anniversary, or-”

Crowley barked out a, “ha,” before taking a drink and sighing. “Yeah, you could say that.” He tapped the glass. “Was the day I lost my best friend.”

Anathema sat up. “I’m sorry. Were they sick, or…?”

“He didn’t die.” Crowley scowled. “I just… I fucked up really bad. Wanted to surprise him, was sorta… in love with him,” He said, ignoring the voice in his mind that screamed he still was because he _really_ needed to shut it up. It had been nearly a decade, for someone’s sake. He needed to move on already. “Said some really stupid shit and didn’t apologize in time.” He shrugged. “I used to take the day to mope, but now I bring Warlock somewhere nifty. Day trips to Edinburgh or Stonehenge. Thinking Paris this year, actually. Helps me forget.”

“What was his name?” Anathema asked.

“I called him angel,” Crowley replied instead because saying the name would likely rip all the plaster and duct tape he’d figuratively applied to the hole in his heart over the years and damn it all but he was making progress. 

“Do you know what happened to him?” Anathema asked kindly.

“Probably married the bloke that beat me to the punch and asked him out,” Crowley grumbled. “Look, just… can we not talk about him. I get that talking is supposed to be good, yada yada, but I just… I can’t move on if I think about him too much, especially this time of year. ‘S why I take Lock away to do fun things.”

“Alright, I’ll let it go.” Anathema conceded. “And I’ll stop trying to set you up. I would hate to unleash you on a sweet guy if you’ve a history of being a complete idiot.”

“Oi!” Crowley snapped, but he was laughing right along with her.

The topic was changed, and true to her word, it was the last time Anathema brought up the bloke she knew from Tadfield.

~A~

Ezra stammered as an overnight bag was dumped in his hands, Adam already in the flat going to the rarely used television to find a cartoon he’d been eager to see.

“What the devil-” He began, but Eliza lifted one finger and he was silenced. 

She took a breath, and slowly let it out. “I’m having Gavin over to the flat tonight, and we’re… gonna talk.” She said as if it was easily the worst thing to happen in the world.

Ezra frowned, “Alright.” He said, glancing over his shoulder at Adam. “Why, then…?”

“Because there might be yelling. And ugly crying.” She confessed. “And I don’t want Adam to see me like that.”

“Vulnerable? Human?” Ezra suggested.

“No. A wreck over a man.” Eliza huffed. “Gavin… he’s going back home next month. It wasn’t a big deal last year, we’d only just started dating, and I couldn’t really blame the man for going back to where his parents are for the holidays. And if he worked there for a couple months, again it wasn’t… it wasn’t a big deal because I didn’t know I’d like him so much.” She huffed. “Maybe more than like him.”

Ezra smiled and was sorely tempted to tease his sister. The fear in her eyes held him back, though. 

Instead, he calmly set the overnight bag down, and Eliza sighed with relief.

“I don’t know why you want this, Ez. It’s absolutely wretched.” 

“Yes, it can be,” he said wistfully. “But it’s so utterly beautiful to be in when it goes right.” 

She nodded, then leaned against the door frame. “Did you consider another date with Gabriel?”

“Another?” Ezra countered. “You make it sound like there’s already been one.”

“Isn’t that what last week was? Trip to London, museums, dinner.”

“I made it absolutely clear that it was _not_ a date, merely an outing between friends. Though he did hint that maybe a date wouldn’t be much different and I,” Ezra paused, sighing. “He asked if we could spend new year’s eve together. I’m considering agreeing.”

“That’s…” Eliza started happily and trailed off. “I’m sorry, I can’t possibly be happy for you seeing that you look utterly miserable at the prospect.”

“Is it wrong that I’ve… I’ve given myself a deadline.”

“A deadline?” Eliza repeated. 

Ezra nodded once. “If we’re both still single by the time I’m thirty-five, I’ll… consider dating him. Seeing where it goes. I imagine, though, if I were to tell him that, he may just have a ring in hand for the day after.”

Eliza laughed, throwing her head back, and Ezra was pleased to see her laugh for a moment. 

“Thirty-five is it? Gives you about a year and a half. Sure you can meet the perfect man in that time.”

“Well, I don’t know about perfect. I’d settle for decent and caring, preferably someone who isn’t bordering on obsessive.”

“At least you know what you want in a man, might make things easier.” She smirked before sobering. “What if I fuck this up? Gav’s… he’s perfect. And I’m about to demand answers, of where we stand. What I am. What if I fuck up?”

Ezra took Eliza gently in his arms. “You won’t.” He swore. “Because if he can’t give you answers, then he’s not perfect, not for you. And you will be better off in the long run instead of spending years loving someone who can’t give you what you want.”

Eliza squeezed him lightly, stepped back, and kissed him on the cheek, then went to say bye to her son.

And Ezra stood in the entryway of his tiny flat wanting to believe his own words.

  
  


**A little less than 10 months ago**

~C~

There were fireworks outside, and in the quiet of the flat, he could hear merriment carrying out in the street. Crowley could have gone out and gone among the lot, joined Bea and Dagon at their flat for their small gathering, or he could have gone to Tadfield to be with Anathema. He just didn’t want to.

Instead, he stayed with Warlock, though the little man couldn’t make it to midnight despite the nap he’d taken earlier in the day. He was currently lent against Crowley on the sofa, quietly snoring, the film they’d watched long over and the TV displaying the streaming menu.

It was just that Crowley didn’t want to bother changing it or finding something else. He just stayed cuddled up to his son, looking out the window at those brilliant light displays above the city.

The new year always felt like maybe something big and exciting should happen, and while he long gave up on the idea of a resolution, he still wanted to quietly tell himself to do something big and important. Crowley, however, couldn’t think of anything.

His mind wandered to a new year gone by, some fifteen or so years ago, spent in the Fells’ back garden. He smiled to himself as he remembered their ramblings, his and Ezra’s. He remembered being entirely too affectionate, wine drunk, and excited to be away from home. He’d kissed him then, just on the cheek, at midnight. And… Ezra had kissed him, too, if he remembered correctly. It was once one of his favorite memories, though it sort of went to the back of his mind as the years went on. He hadn’t drudged it up since before their fight.

He wondered what Ezra was doing right now at this moment. As he played with Warlock’s hair, he imagined Ezra with a man who looked, perhaps, not _quite_ like Gabriel Haven, but someone similar. A husband, Crowley would think, and someone who worshiped the ground the angel walked on. He’d look at Ezra with utter adoration before kissing him to ring in the new year. Did Ezra have kids? He’d probably have kids.

It hurt as any thought of Ezra always did, but to a lesser degree. 

Maybe he was finally getting over him.

Only took the better part of a decade.

~A~

He’d kissed a man at midnight. It had been… a bit too long since Ezra had kissed anyone with romantic intention. Gabriel was the last one, though romance wasn’t really a factor there.

The bloke was handsome, charming, flirty, and a friend of Anathema’s who happened to be visiting her and wouldn’t be around in a week or so. Which, to Ezra, was the perfect stepping stone for getting back into the dating world as he promised himself he’d try the year before.

“You,” the bloke said as he pulled back from Ezra, “Are an amazing kisser.”

“Thank you,” Ezra smirked, blushing in part from the words and in part from the kiss. “I thought maybe I’d have been a bit out of practice.”

The bloke smiled and chuckled. “So, umm… did you want to maybe… I have a room at Ana’s,” He said, gesturing to the door of the pub.

“Oh,” Ezra blushed further. “Oh, I-I think I’ll have to decline.” He said, then rushed to add, “It’s nothing against you. I’ve enjoyed your company immensely this evening, and if you were intending on sticking around the country, I may have, well…. But, you see, I don’t tend to… to go in for… that. With people I barely know.”

Which, of course, was a bit of an understatement considering Ezra could barely recall the man’s name. He was very certain it was Carlos, but since Anathema had only referred to him as a Spanish pet name after the initial introduction, and no one else had used it, Ezra didn’t dare attempt to try. Especially not now.

 _“Won’t you miss sex? Even just a little?”_ The voice of a ghost whispered in his mind as maybe-Carlos swore he understood where Ezra was coming from. 

“Was a bit impulsive of me, suppose? Not going to be here for many more days, and I thought maybe.”

“I’m terribly sorry to disappoint,” Ezra said. “Do you… could you excuse me a moment? It’s nothing to do with you, I promise. I just… need some air.”

Carlos nodded and Ezra smiled in thanks, heading for the doors and stepping outside.

The cool night air of a new year washed over Ezra, and he tipped his head up to the sky. He sent a quiet prayer to whoever might be listening that Gabriel did not notice he’d stepped out so he could have this raw moment alone.

He hadn’t thought of Anthony as more than a quick, passing thought in months. A quick, fleeting thought now and again, once in May, again in November, same as always, but memories hadn’t resurfaced in almost a year.

Where was he right now? Ezra would guess somewhere like London, though one never knew. Anthony might have struck out and traveled instead. Did he have a partner to share his life with? He’d always been so charismatic, easy to love even if some people only held that love for him for a short time. 

The door to the pub opened, and Ezra closed his eyes.

“Hey, you alright?” Anathema asked, and Ezra actually sighed with relief.

“I am now that I know you aren’t Gabriel.” He smiled at her.

She grinned back. “Last I saw, he was trying very hard to swallow that blonde he’d been chatting up since I introduced you to Carlos.”

“Oh good, that _is_ his name.” Ezra smiled triumphantly.

Anathema laughed. “Oh, you’re as bad as my friend AJ.”

“Oh, I doubt that very much. It’s not my fault no one repeated it, and I heard it very briefly hours ago.”

“You could have asked him,” Anathema smirked. “Especially since you snogged him.” 

Ezra scoffed. “Hardly a snog, my dear. But it was rather nice.” He confessed.

He and Anathema shared a grin.

“Why’d you leave? If it was rather nice?” She asked with only a little bit of a tease.

Ezra pursed his lips and contemplated how much to tell her. 

He and Anathema were only just beginning to become proper friends themselves. It was why he was out at the pub with her and a few others instead of at home with Eliza. Aside from the fact that she and Gavin planned to video conference with one another at midnight and possibly at his if she could get up that early, that is. 

He sighed, “I was thinking of a long lost friend.” He confessed. “A man I loved and… well, it doesn’t matter. He crossed my mind after when I was talking with Carlos, and it had just caught me off guard is all.”

“I get that,” Anathema acknowledged. After a moment she said, “You know, sometimes when we remember things like that, it’s the universe sending us a sign.”

Ezra rolled his eyes and looked at her through the corner of his eye. “You know I don’t believe that hogwash.”

“Maybe not,” Anathema grinned. “But maybe it’s something you can think of instead. Maybe it’s a sign this year will be good for you.”

“Perhaps,” He conceded. “But I suppose starting it ill would rather take away from that hopeful notion. Perhaps we should head back in.”

“Agreed,” Anathema said, turning and heading back to the pub. Ezra took one last deep breath, then headed inside as well.

~C~

**Eight months ago**

Bea was looking at him with those eyes. It made him fidget, which was bad because he was just spelling out that there was something he should bring up with them.

Still, he tried to avoid the look. It didn’t matter that he could feel the eyes on him, didn’t matter that he was on the other side of the shop, trying hard to work in a space he now found cramped, feeling a bit too much like a hamster in a cage with all the people watching him work as they shopped.

Crowley wondered how long it would be before Bea cornered him, if they would wait for a lull in customers, or do it as soon as Eric came on to the sales floor to start his shift.

After a few minutes, he got his answer: a lull in customers.

Bea marched right across the room once the last customer was out the door, the eyes boring down on Crowley the entire time, and stopped on the opposite side of the workbench, crossing their arms.

“What aren’t you telling me?” They asked, their tone allowing no room for Crowley to back down.

“I’m not telling you anything,” He attempted to lie and winced at how bad it was.

Bea picked up a group of discard stems and whacked him over the head with it. Thankfully, none of them had thorns, otherwise, it would have smarted far more than it did.

“Try again, idiot.” They demanded.

“I’m… thinking of moving. To Tadfield.” He confessed, ducking when he wasn’t sure another whack would happen.

Instead, Bea narrowed their eyes at him. “Why?” They asked.

“Well, it could be the amount of petrol I’ve been burning through, going between here and there.” He retorted.

“You’re the fool who bought a custom car that burns through it.” They countered. 

“It doesn’t burn through it, the Bentley’s a hybrid.” He scowled. “But it’s still more petrol than I should be using considering I’ve been there more than I’ve been here.”

Bea seemed to concede to that, glancing out the shop windows. “It’s not because you’re banging Anathema, is it?”

Crowley’s disgust became physically evident. “I’m not sleeping with Anathema!” He practically yelled, only realizing a second after that Bea was having on him. “I’m just… I need change. _We_ need change, Lock and me. And I’m there far more than I’m here, and I just….” He huffed. “I feel like I belong there. I dunno, it’s just…. I started looking at houses, nothing serious at first, but then I just picture Lock getting to play in a yard or a decent playground that’s not so overcrowded that there’s hardly room for kids to play.”

Bea leaned on the worktop, avoiding Crowley’s eyes. “I guess I can’t fault you for wanting to give your kid a better life.” 

“I’ve been told it’s best to try and find a place now. Schools like knowing who they’ll have before June and if I get a place in the next couple of months, I can have Lock registered well in time for orientations and all that rot. And who knows, maybe there he won’t feel so left out or out of place.”

Bea frowned. “He’s too young to be feeling that way.”

“Well, he is.” Crowley huffed. “I’m just… I need a change, we both do.”

“Fine.” Bea nodded. “But don’t expect drinks with Dagon and me every weekend if you’re going to be living there. We aren’t taking the train up for a drink.”

“I’ll figure something out, I’m sure. Maybe Anathema will let me tag along to those pub nights she’s always going on about. Maybe even meet this Liz she keeps going on about.”

Bea smirked. “What will Michael think?”

“I’ve been dating him for a month,” Crowley grumbled. “Might actually be a good way to let him down easy. You know the other day he asked how many nipples you have? Something about you being a witch.”

“Don’t let him near Anathema, then,” Bea retorted, the bell on the door signaling that they had to get back to the counter. Crowley heard their fake customer service cheer greet the customers, and went back to work. 

He also decided that he’d put an offer in on that house he was looking at after all.

~A~

**Six months ago**

Ezra glanced up at the door from behind his glasses as it chimed, the book in his hand forgotten as Gavin walked in. He watched the man glance around the cafe before spotting Ezra, waving to signal that he’d been spotted, then went to the counter to order a drink.

Ezra narrowed his eyes on the man while his back was turned, trying to figure out why he had wanted to meet him there after he was finished with school for the day. He had his suspicions, of course, but couldn’t be certain.

Marking his spot, Ezra closed the book and set it aside, folding his hands on the table and looking at them until the seat across from him moved. He looked up and smiled at the man who smiled back but was clearly very nervous.

“How was your day?” Gavin asked as he got settled.

“Very well, thank you. And yours?” He asked, deciding to take a sip of his tea.

“It was good.” Gavin nodded and continued to nod while looking at his cup.

Ezra thought to make him stew, but felt he should be kinder to the man his sister loved. “Is everything alright, Gavin?” He asked, getting the man’s attention.

“Yeah, yeah I think so.” He said, rolling his paper cup between his hands. He chewed his bottom lip before taking a breath. “Listen, I’ve… I’ve been doing a lot of thinking. And, I love Liza, I like Adam, and… I want to be a part of their lives more than what I am. And… you know, I talked with Eliza about moving in together recently, and she wasn’t sure. Which, I get, she’s got a kid and moving in with a boyfriend….”

“You want to know what I think of the idea?” Ezra guessed, smiling a bit to himself, feeling proud he’d gotten it right.

Gavin chuckled. “No, I… I actually asked you here because you’re their only family. And I want to ask you if I might have your blessing to ask Eliza to marry me.”

Ezra’s jaw dropped, and his eyes widened, and he knew he looked foolish but he really couldn’t help it.

“You want to marry her?” He asked, wondering if he was somehow very much mistaken.

Gavin seemed impossibly more nervous. “I love her, Ezra. I swear, I know before the holidays it seemed like maybe … but damn it was practically at first sight for me.”

“And Adam?” Ezra asked.

“I … I can’t say that I love him. Not because I don’t, really, just… I don’t know him yet, not like that. He’s a great kid, and I really like him.”

Ezra pursed his lips. “That may be a bit on Eliza.” He said with a dip of his head. “She’s very protective of him, and the sort of male influences he has. And she is, for whatever reason, extremely skittish about letting any sort of male figure but me spend any great deal of time with him.”

“Yeah, I noticed. It was… a bit of an issue for me early on. I mean, she has Adam, he’s part of the package, and I wanted to know him because it helps me know her, too.”

“I did happen to notice you getting to spend more time the three of you after your return in February.” Ezra smiled fondly. “And you’ll have time after the proposal to get to know Adam better before the wedding, or at least I hope.”

Gavin reared back. “You’re…. I have your blessing?” He asked in disbelief.

Ezra chuckled, reaching across the table and covering the man’s hand with his own. “Gavin, my dear fellow, you don’t need my blessing, but you do have it. Wholly and completely.”

Gavin laughed, making a sound of utter relief before taking a drink of his beverage that was obviously too hot. “I’m glad.” He said. “I mean, you’re sorta part of the package, too.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Ezra replied, pulling his hand back and waving Gavin off with it. 

“She’s hardly going to leave you out of her life because we’re married.” Gavin pointed out.

“Ah, but I’d be taking a rather large step back.” He said, and it hit him momentarily what that would mean. 

It would mean much less time with Eliza. It would mean less time with Adam, too. Weekends wouldn’t be Adam coming to his flat, or day trips to London. There wouldn’t be as many random weekday dinners as the three of them. He always knew his role in Adam’s life was far more than simply an uncle, but that’s what he would become.

It was a hard pill to swallow, but he would do so nonetheless. Just imagining how incandescently happy Eliza would be, expanding her little family to include a man she loved, perhaps the first man she ever actually loved, made that loss so inconsequential it had already passed.

“When do you think you’ll ask her?” Ezra asked. “I should probably be prepared for the shrill shrieking.

Gavin smirked. “I think I’m going to ask her when we go away next week.” He said, reaching into his front pocket and pulling out a ring box. “I actually picked this up on the way over.” He opened it up, showing Ezra a lovely looking ring that was very much Eliza’s style.

“Well, I wish you the very best of luck,” He grinned. “And while it might be a bit preemptive, I will say I’m very much looking forward to having a brother.”

~C~

Crowley pulled into the driveway feeling utterly giddy.

“Who lives here, dad?” Warlock asked from the backseat, craning to look out the window, probably trying to find a clue he could latch on to. 

Crowley didn’t answer. Instead, he got out of the car, ran over to Warlock’s side, and helped him out of the vehicle. He picked up his son, carrying him on his hip as he made his way to the back garden. He opened the gate and stepped through. 

“Whaddya think?” Crowley asked his son who looked around the empty space.

“Doesn’t have anything.” He frowned.

“Well, if it did, what would you want? Swings? A slide?”

Warlock frowned. “I like swings,” He said decidedly.

“Swings it will be,” Crowley said with a smile that stretched wide. “And as to who lives here, Lock, it’s us. We’re gonna live here. This is where we’re moving to.”

Warlock frowned, looking around the garden, at the two-story house. “We’re not gonna live in a flat?”

“No,” Crowley said, putting him down, then getting down on his knee to look his son in the eye. “When I said we’d be moving, I meant that we’d leave London. I know it might seem scary, but I promise you’ll love it here. You’re going to make friends, such great friends. We’ll be closer to Anathema, and that Newt fellow.”

Warlock seemed unsure. “What about nana?”

“She can come up and visit,” Crowley assured. 

Warlock looked around the garden again. “You sure I’ll have friends here?” he asked in a tiny voice that broke Crowley’s heart.

He pulled his son in his arms, holding him close. “I can’t promise that, Lock. I wish I could, but I can’t. What I can promise, though, is you’re going to meet so many new kids. And nursery here will be different. I mean, it’s called Little Duck, and anything named for a duck has gotta be great.” He said, and Warlock giggled against his shoulder. “And I’ll be there to get you so much sooner. I’ll only be late once a week instead of every day, and on those days you’ll probably have Aunt Anathema with you. And we both know she’s way cooler than nana.”

“What about Tony?” Warlock asked as he leaned away from Crowley, looking at his dad.

“Tony will be here with you, too, sometimes, I’m sure,” Crowley said, pushing down the ache he had from time to time when Warlock wasn’t able to refer to his grandfather properly. “Now, wanna see inside? You can pick which room will be yours. There’s only one that’s off-limits, cause it’s gonna be mine, but.”

Warlock’s eyes widened. “I can pick which will be my room?” He asked, looking back at the house with awe.

Crowley grinned, getting up and taking Warlock’s hand and leading him inside to show him their new home.

As he did, something settled in Crowley’s chest, a rightness to it all.

As Warlock tore up the stairs, his phone rang.

“Hey, Anathema, what’s-”

“AJ,” She said, her voice broken.

His heart lurched. “What’s wrong?”

She sniffed. “Umm… I’m calling to ask a favor. Sorta last minute, but… umm, I have a funeral next week. I was hoping we could do the flowers for it. It’s, umm, for my friend Liz.”

Crowley, having nowhere to sit, leaned against the nearest wall. “Anathema, I’m so sorry.” He said softly. “Yes, of course, we can do the flowers. No charge, make sure you tell her family-”

“There isn’t much family to tell. Just her brother and her son.” She sniffed. 

“Oh, shit,” Crowley swore, running his hand through his hair. “When’s the funeral?”

“It’s Wednesday. I know it’s a bit of a short notice, considering you’re taking time off.”

He frowned, “I don’t give a toss about that. Take time off, as much as you need, I’ll get the flowers arranged, Bea can help with the rest, and I’ll get Eric here to cover for us both until you’re ready to go back. Hell, I’ll even see what I can do while handling the move.”

“Thanks, AJ. It means a lot.” Anathema replied. “Her brother’s still in a bit of a shock.”

“I can only imagine.” He said, shaking his head. Warlock called for him, and he glanced at the stairs. “Look, just make a list of what you want me to make, and I’ll have them done and sent to wherever. I’m really sorry.”

“I know.” She said softly. “I’ll talk to you again soon. And, thanks again.”

“Anytime.” He rang off and ventured up to see where Warlock had gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The final post will likely happen on Tuesday. As of now, I have 3 of the "What-if's written. Most of them will be pretty short, under 5000 words. Two of them will be a bit meatier, I believe. There *may* be an eighth as I realized one scenario to change could have two options.  
> I will see you for our conclusion and epilogue soon.
> 
> Chapter title from "Just haven't met you yet" by Michael Buble


	39. Let's Skip to the Good Part

**The day of the court hearing**

There was something heady about walking into the courthouse with Ezra’s hand in his. Crowley hadn’t been terribly surprised to learn that Ezra had begged off work for the next three days, using most of his personal days for the academic year, to be at his side through this. He didn’t know what he’d told his boss, but it certainly put a bit more swagger into his step.

He didn’t have a suit, not a proper one, so he put together pieces from his wardrobe that he thought might work. His dressiest denims, though they were still very snug. A black waistcoat over a black dress shirt. A black blazer, because someone help him, that was essentially the color of his wardrobe with very few exceptions, none in which he should probably be wearing to court. He’s put on a silver silk tie to add a bit of color, and his favorite snakeskin dress shoes that had a reddish undertone on the bottoms. He’d put his hair in a bun as neatly as he could, and made sure to wear his brown contacts.

At his side, Ezra dressed as though he were heading to the school, matching Crowley in a strange sort of way that also threw them in contrast to one another. They’d probably gotten a few looks, though Crowley hadn’t paid enough attention to notice.

Beneath the swagger and the air of calm, he was a bundle of nerves, and Ezra’s hand was the one thing that was keeping him from completely losing it before the whole thing even got started.

They were told what room the judge would have them sit in, and despite being twenty minutes early, Crowley and Ezra headed to the second floor to wait in the corridor, exactly where Lucas said he would meet them.

James was already there, the only one in the hallway.

For a split second, old instincts of self-preservation nearly had Crowley pulling his hand away. But then he felt Ezra’s thumb caress his, and he squeezed instead. This was what he was fighting for, in a strange sort of way. He was facing down this man who raised him, letting him know he was no longer going to fit in the box James had tried to shove him into.

He stood taller, and as he did so James looked up and over. There was the slightest twitch of his lips as if James meant to sneer and stopped himself. 

“Anthony,” He said politely enough, a slight nod as he crossed his arms and straightened his back.

“James,” Crowley nodded back, feeling both a thrill of pleasure and slight guilt as James flinched as though he’d been slapped. 

“Mr. Crowley,” Ezra said, polite as ever. James eyed him with barely concealed disdain, and simply nodded back.

They drifted off to the side, huddling together.

“How are you feeling?” Ezra whispered to him, lifting their joined hands and pressing them against his chest.

“Nervous,” Crowley admitted. “Bit scared, if I’m honest. But… we’re fine. We’ll be fine, ya know? I mean, things might be tight for a bit, more employees at Tadfield means I’m gonna take a bit of a dip in income, but… we’ll be alright.”

Ezra bent his head, bringing Crowley’s knuckles to his lips. “I don’t want you to fret over those things, darling.”

“I will, you know I will,” Crowley grumbled. 

“Yes, I do. But I’m reminding you that you needn't. Whatever happens, for good or for bad, I’m beside you.” He said with a squeeze of his hand. 

“I know, angel,” Crowley smirked, leaning forward to press his forehead to Ezra’s.

“Martin,” James partly barked, snapping them out of their little bubble.

Crowley turned to watch Lucas coming down the hall. James stepped forward, offering his hand, and was promptly ignored as he turned toward Crowley.

“AJ, Ezra, how are we this morning?” Lucas asked them with a grin.

“We’re well,” Ezra replied for them, and Crowley let go of his hand to pull him to his side. “And how are you?”

They carried on a polite conversation consisting of small talk, and Crowley’s eyes took in the space around them until they fell on James. 

He was watching them, perplexed perhaps, and maybe a bit wistful. When he realized Crowley was looking at him, he sighed, then waved him over.

“Be right back, angel,” Crowley said to Ezra, kissing his temple before going to James.

James was looking at everything but him as Crowley made his way over. He stood, hands in his pockets, waiting to see what the man who raised him had to say, why he was being beckoned over.

“We don’t have to do this,” James said after a moment.

“No, we don’t.” Crowley agreed.

James looked at him with hope. “I might not agree with it, but… you seem happy. I won’t begrudge you staying with him and all, but if you just called off the-”

“No,” Crowley said flatly.

“But… you just said we didn’t have to do this. You agreed with me.”

“Yeah, I agreed we didn’t have to do this. You didn’t have to bring me here, you didn’t have to drag this all out. You could have just cut your losses and moved on, forget there was a boy you claimed as yours and if people ask, you could make up some bullshit answer about me. But you did do this. This? It’s all on you. I’m not backing down, not now.” He turned around and rejoined Ezra and Lucas, seeing another pair of men in suits coming down the hall toward them. 

“That would be the judge,” Lucas said, indicating the men coming toward them with a tilt of his head. 

“Alright,” Ezra said, turning to Crowley and surprising him with a quick kiss on the lips. “Good luck, love. I’ll be waiting for you downstairs.”

“Okay,” Crowley agreed, going in for another quick kiss before He turned and went to join Lucas where he chatted with the judge and the other lawyer. He took a deep breath and reminded himself that once this was done, it was over. There was nothing else James could go after him for. And by the sad look in the man’s eyes, Crowley suspected that James was beginning to have regrets.

Crowley was hoping all his regrets were behind him.

~A~

There was a tea cart in the atrium, which made things infinitely easier while waiting. Ezra had purchased a cup and sat at a table, watching people come and go, fielding texts from Anathema who had to have known that he knew next to nothing about what was going on. 

Which is why he was oddly surprised by the next new message being from Gabriel.

_Gabriel: Are you available to talk?_

Ezra frowned.

_Ezra: Not particularly. I’m still waiting for Anthony._

_Gabriel: It’s important._

_Ezra: If it’s important but not urgent, can it wait until either tonight or tomorrow?_

_Ezra: I’ve taken a few personal days in case this drags on, or Anthony needs me._

There was a longer pause than normal between the last two messages, and Ezra nearly put his phone away before he received a reply.

_Gabriel: Tomorrow’s fine._

He nodded to himself putting away the mobile and took a drink of tea.

Despite everything, he’d still felt a little guilty. They wouldn’t be here if he’d only kept his mouth shut that evening in the hotel room. They would have been living together, and probably may have never considered marriage at all, at least not for a while.

His eyes fell on his ring, and he lifted his right hand, tilting it from side to side to have a proper look at it. Anthony had put so much thought into such a spontaneous gift, enough that Ezra liked to imagine he felt the love pouring out from it and into his veins. He wished he’d thought of something equally lovely and thoughtful to gift Anthony, but nothing immediately came to mind.

Ezra pondered it, sipping tea and amusing himself on occasion by guessing why some people were there while he waited. He should have brought a book, though it seemed oddly disrespectful, the idea of stuffing it in his pocket to enjoy while Anthony was facing down the man who’d been his father.

It was then he spotted said man coming down the stairs chatting with his lawyer, neither looking particularly happy nor displeased. Ezra’s heart started pounding as he tried desperately to get a read on the situation, all while trying to spot his fiance.

It was a minute or so later before he saw him and Lucas coming down the stairs, the two smiling and having a bit of a chuckle together.

Ezra abandoned his cup of tea and hurried across the atrium, catching up to the pair just as they came to the bottom of the stairs.

“So?” He asked, wringing his hands. “What happened? You’re smiling, so I assume it’s good, but I can’t be sure.”

Anthony and Lucas looked at each other with a more subdued grin.

“James got twenty percent,” Anthony told him. “But, the stipulation was very clear that he only gets twenty percent of the London shop. We didn’t even need to bring up the fact that Tadfield was in your name.” 

“The judge, as I suspected, saw things in a literal way. But, Anthony’s statements helped, and as did the fact that he was supporting an unexpected child.”

“Judge thought James should be seen as a sort of investor. But only in the original Garden.” Crowley explained further. 

“Oh,” Ezra said, only partly relieved. “Well, love, I’m sorry you’re not rid of him.”

“Yeah, I’m… not sure how to feel about it. On the positive side, he won’t own enough of it to really have any saw in decision making or whatnot. But… I dunno, he’s still there, still attached. I might pass it off the Gabe anyway.”

“Speaking of which, Gabriel would like to meet up when we’re available,” Ezra noted.

“Well, he’ll have to wait,” Lucas spoke up. “It may not be the complete win we wanted, but it’s a win in my books anyway. And I always take clients out to lunch or dinner afterward to celebrate, and since we’re -in a way- family.”

“I’m all for making him wait,” Anthony said with a toothy grin which Ezra could only roll his eyes at. 

“Don’t like him?” Lucas asked as he led them through the atrium.

“You’ve met him, actually,” Ezra pointed out as Anthony separated his hands and took one in his own.

“Oh, was that the douche I met in the pub that one time?” Lucas asked, causing Anthony to laugh a bit too loudly as they left the building, stepping out into the daylight.

~C~

  
  


“I don’t know what to do?” Crowley said as he and Ezra laid in bed that night.

Ezra glanced at him from the corner of his eye, pursing his lips before setting down his book. “What would you like to do? How important is it for you to be free of James?”

Crowley curled his lip petulantly, hating that Ezra was still turning to question back on him in some way. He’d been trying to get an answer out of him since after their lunch with Lucas, but Ezra wouldn’t give him any advice. 

“If you were me,” He tried again. “What would you do?”

Ezra sighed. “I’m not sure, love. On one hand, this is your chance to sever all ties with him. You could still sell, or even give away, your share of that business. But as you’ve pointed out, the only thing he gets from the whole thing is profit. He doesn’t hold enough power over the shop to make a decision, and that includes shutting it down or major changes.” He tilted his head back as if searching the ceiling for answers. “You could ask to buy his shares, he’d probably try and drain you, make you buy them for more than it’s worth. He went after you as a punishment, but it backfired. He’s lost all control over you. The hopeful part of me wants to believe he wants to hold on to them because it _is_ a way of keeping in your life, however cursory.”

“You think he wants to still be involved with me?” Crowley asked incredulously.

“I’m not sure,” Ezra confessed. Then with a smirk, said, “But seeing as how that is currently the only shop you own, I’d readily hold on to it.”

Crowley blinked. “What?”

“Well, as I recall, you are no longer the owner of the Garden in Tadfield. You only own eighty percent of the one in London.”

Crowley’s jaw dropped. “You utter bastard,” He said with a growing grin. 

“Uh-uh,” Ezra tutted. “Is that any way to speak to your boss?” 

“Oh, I can think of a lot of things I want to say to my _boss_ right now?” Crowley said as he sat up, shifting up on his knees.

“Oh, can you?” Ezra asked, allowing Crowley to take the book out of his hand and set it face down on the nightstand. “And what sort of things do you want to say?” He asked as Crowley straddles his thighs.

Crowley cupped Ezra’s face, smiling. “That I love you.” He said, “ And that I’m looking forward to moving on from this. To plan our wedding.” He paused. “And to a lifetime of you bossing me around.”

Ezra hummed happily, smiling as he gently took Crowley’s t-shirt in his hands and pulled him in for a gentle kiss.

“I love you, too. And you had best believe that I _will_ be bossing you around quite a lot. Starting with telling you to get off my lap and let me read.” 

“Oh, come on. Can’t I just stay here? You can read while I stay here, can’t you?”

“Not particularly, no,” Ezra smirked. 

Crowley gave a heavy, put upon, completely fabricated sigh before falling to the side and on to his back on his side of the bed. “Fine.” He said.

Ezra giggled before reaching for his book again. “Put your head on my lap, dear, I’ll play with your hair.”

“Bossy much,” Crowley mumbled as he complied immediately.

“I thought that was the point, dear?” Ezra said as his hand rested on Crowley’s head, his fingers carding through the strands.

Crowley didn’t say anything, he just relaxed into Ezra’s touch, trying to think of what he would do now.

~A~

They were barely in the door after dropping off the boys when the doorbell sounded. Ezra and Anthony looked at one another before Ezra turned to go back to get the door, and Anthony carried on into the kitchen to put on the kettle.

As expected, it was Gabriel on their front step.

“When you said you’d be by in the morning, I hadn’t really expected it to be so soon,” Ezra confessed.

Gabriel studied his face and may have even been a bit nervous. “I didn’t want to keep you waiting, sunshine. And I thought the sooner you knew, the better.”

“I must admit you’re worrying me a bit more than a little.” He said as he stepped aside and let Gabriel in. “Is everything alright?”

“No, it’s… it’s not. Do you,” he paused, glancing into the kitchen, “is Crowley’s shop still in your name?”

“Yes,” Ezra replied hesitantly, leading Gabriel into the kitchen. “Why do you ask?”

He turned to face Gabriel again once he was by Anthony’s side, and was taken aback by the utterly thunderous expression on the man’s face.

“Because _that_ asshole is cheating on you,” Gabriel said in a relatively calm voice that didn’t match the look in his eye or the violence behind his pointed finger in Anthony’s direction.

For his part, Anthony merely lifted his head with a deep frown, abandoning the preparation of three cups of something warm in favor of turning around to face their guest.

“I’m what now?” He asked.

Gabriel shook his head. “Twice - _twice-_ I’ve spotted you around London with a woman.”

“A woman?” Anthony repeated incredulously.

“Yes, a woman. And you two would be holding hands and leaning into each other. The first time I thought it was maybe a sister that you were oddly close to. But the second time I’d seen you kiss her in a way no sane person would kiss their sister. And when I called your name it took you a second, but you looked around for me.”

Anthony blinked at Gabriel, frown still firmly in place, and this time Ezra shared it.

“When was this?” Ezra asked.

“Last Friday, and Tuesday,” Gabriel replied. “Friday was when… but Tuesday?”

“Gabriel, Anthony was-”

“I got pictures.” Gabriel interrupted.

“Did you?” Anthony asked with disbelief.

“I did. Figured Ezra wouldn’t believe me without them.”

“Right,” Ezra said placidly. “Gabriel, I’m sure you mean-”

“See, I knew you wouldn’t believe me,” Gabriel said as he scrambled into his pocket and pulled out his phone. 

Ezra waited patiently, folding his hands in front of him while Anthony crossed his arms. 

Gabriel must have had his damning evidence set up and ready to go because he set his phone down on the island between them, then gestured at it.

As one, Ezra and Anthony stepped forward and looked at the photos.

“It’s Neil,” Ezra said flatly.

“Who’s Neil?” Gabriel asked.

“It’s my brother,” Anthony replied. “And the woman is Amanda, his girlfriend.”

“Hasn’t proposed yet?” Ezra asked, glancing at his fiance.

“Nah, he chickened out, or something came up with her. Doesn’t matter, he’s got a plan B, as it were. Supposed to ask me about-”

“Hey!” Gabriel nearly yelled, pausing their conversation.

He huffed when they looked at him. “Do you really believe that’s his brother? It’s Crowley!” He said, gesturing to his phone, his voice far calmer now.

“Gabriel, that man’s eyes are blue, it’s Neil.” Ezra pointed out.

“He wears contacts,” Gabriel gestured to Anthony who sighed and got out his phone, presumably to bring up a family photo.

“And his condition still bleeds through on the blue lenses. And they tend to make his eyes more green”

“Do they? You’ve seen that?” Gabriel asked, crossing his arms.

“Well, no,” Ezra began.

“Then how can you be-”

“What?” A fourth voice filled the room.

Ezra turned to see Anthony holding his phone face level, scratching at his eyebrow. “I have a knob in my kitchen who needs to meet you.” He said plainly.

“Right… why?” Neil’s voice replied, and Crowley turned the phone around to face Gabriel.

The wide-eyed and slack jaw surprise morphing Gabriel’s face had Ezra pressing a fist to his lips in an attempt to stifle the giggles.

“Gabriel Haven, meet Neil Adams. My brother. You might notice some annoying similarities between us, except this bastard got a set of perfectly normal eyes.”

“You wanna talk about annoying.” Neil teased.

“Yes, you’re annoying. Now, can you not be and make sure the knob here gets a good look at your face.”

“Hello, knob,” Neil said pleasantly.

“Uh… hi,” Gabriel said, continuing to just stare at the screen.

“He looks like a knob,” Neil said thoughtfully. “Why’s he a knob?”

“Saw you with Amanda, thought you were me,” Anthony smirked.

“Right. Bloody hell, that’s like that time when Amanda was worried I was going round on her when she saw you at that club there with… fuck, I don’t even remember who.”

Anthony turned the phone to face him again. “Bloody hell if I know. Was probably, Bea. Anyway, won’t keep you. Have a good one.” He said, ending the video call with Neil and pocketing his phone. “Are you satisfied now?”

Gabriel swallowed, looking around the room like he’d never been in their house before.

“Yeah,” he croaked out. “I just….” He laughed mirthlessly. “He told me how your case turned out. I didn’t think you’d give up your shares in London, but when I saw…. Ezra gave up a big chunk of his life for you, the idea that he could walk away and not have to worry? I was actually really looking forward to him taking you for all you were still worth, no divorce required.”

“And, what, you would have swooped in, been there for him? Been his shoulder to cry on?” Anthony asked, no maliciousness to his words.

Gabriel blinked. “Surprisingly… no.” He met Ezra’s eyes this time. “I told you I loved you, and you were utterly unmoved. What’s more, is… you said things that… I guess, I just never really considered. That it wasn’t all a cat and mouse game, that it wasn’t you in denial of how you felt.” He looked at Anthony. “I would have supported him if what I thought was happening actually did. I’d have helped him get his old place back, I’d have… done whatever was needed. And maybe old habits would have come up, but I’d like to think that since August I’ve started letting go.”

Anthony held Gabriel’s eye a long time before he nodded once. 

“You were only looking out for him. I can forgive that.”

Gabriel nodded in return then looked to Ezra. “Apologies for interrupting your morning.” He said, turning to head toward the door.

“Gabe,” Crowley said, surprising both other men. He scratched the back of his neck. “I’m still thinking on what to do with my shares. Let you know one way or another, alright?”

Gabriel nodded curtly. “No problem, keep me posted.”

“Maybe-” Ezra started, startling himself. “Well… with all this behind us, I thought perhaps Saturday we would have a gathering of our friends to sort of celebrate. Perhaps… we’ll see you there?” He asked, wringing his fingers.

Gabriel nodded, “Sure thing, sunshine. Crowley.” He gave them a brief wave, then headed out the door, and Anthony and Ezra stood in the kitchen, listening to the engine start in the drive.

“Well,” Anthony said. “That was a thing.”

“Indeed it was.” Ezra agreed. “Did Amanda really think you were Neil?” He asked curiously, turning to Anthony with an arched brow. 

“Yeah,” he said. “It was,” he pursed his lips, “A few months after Warlock was born. I still had my blue contacts, had sorta hoped that’d at least dim the weirdness, and I must have chosen to wear them out one night. I hadn’t met Amanda at the time, didn’t even know Neil was seeing someone. They’d nearly broken up because she thought she’d met all his family, didn’t know about the secret older brother.”

“Well, I’ve made the mistake myself once, I can see how it would be easily done,” Ezra commented, smiling up at Anthony who grinned back. “What is it, dear?” He asked when he realized Anthony’s smile was far more exuberant than he expected.

“Don’t you feel it?” Anthony asked. 

“Feel what?” Ezra frowned.

“Light? Like the bad stuff's gone now. James, Gabriel, all those silly little obstacles that were always sorta in our way in some form or another. ‘S all gone.” He shrugged. “What could possibly go wrong?”

“Don’t say that,” Ezra grumbled. “It’s a sure way for something _to_ go wrong.”

“Like what?” Anthony grinned. “What could possibly happen now?”

**2021**

On a warm Sunday at the end of May, shoppers who flocked to the Garden in Tadfield found things to be a little different than the norm. Stepping inside there was a hum of excitement and anticipation in the air, and it seemed more staff than normal. Everything looked the same, too, until one got to the Greenhouse. There, one would find multiple signs posted to be careful as they were setting up for a private event to take place after hours. 

There were fairy lights overhead that normally wouldn’t be there. Enough strands to provide light in the dark, but not so many that it would dim the overall effect. There were chairs with fabric draped over the backs situated around a dozen tables set up in a fairly open space that was roped off with draped white fabric hanging off the normally ugly posts used to mark line ups. One of those tables bore three candles, three tea roses, and three small framed photos. And there was an arch that was being set up by a very harried ginger who many would recognize as the manager. It was ivy-covered with forget-me-nots, lavender, and red roses placed all over it, and finished with a tartan ribbon. At the edge of the space clearly set aside for the event was a little chalkboard side one might normally have found outside to advertise a sale. Instead, in elegant handwriting, it said, “We’re on our own side, so sit where you’d like.”

Most just let it go, gladly taking the pretty-potted ivy sprig handed out to every customer by two little boys who stood at the exit dressed rather sharply for their ages. But those who were curious enough to ask left with a large smile, and even doubled back to wish the manager and his future husband good luck.

It was two years after a chance reunion in a park on the East side of the city, twelve years after a fight that sent friends adrift for a decade, and the first day of the rest of their lives.

~A~

Anthony wore a white suit with a black shirt and a red tie. There was much discussion leading up to this decision, including a conversation that made Ezra smile any time it crossed his mind.

“You asked me to marry you,” Anthony had said when they were choosing their suits. “I feel like that means I should be wearing white.”

“Dearest, you know that that is an archaic tradition meant for women to sort of symbolize their purity.” Ezra had countered. “And what’s more, it was actually more a sign of wealth, seeing as how white stains so easily, and no common person could afford a white dress that may only be worn once.”

“Don’t care, wearing white.”

And he was a vision in it, too. It was tailored perfectly to his lean figure and somehow managed to compliment his ginger hair which he’d grown out a little more and was now tied at the nape of his neck.

Ezra dressed in a dark grey suit, an ivory shirt and his tartan bow tie the only nods to his normal style. He didn’t want to go the black route, he didn’t feel it complimented him very well. He was glad of it when he’d seen how sharp Warlock looked in a matching outfit.

Adam had dressed like Anthony, and while everyone had commented how cute they were, Ezra nor Anthony had had the heart to tell them that it was the boys’ idea. 

He imagined, for a moment, what the photos of this would look like. The four of them standing together in front of the officiant, the boys serving as best men in appearance, the nearly official family standing before their friends and relatives.

But that was something he could observe later, for right now, as the music was silenced, he turned to look at Anthony, blue eyes meeting gold, and prepared for what was to come next.

“Friends, family.” The officiant began. “We are gathered today to celebrate the union of these two wonderful men. Who have come together before you all to pledge their love and lives to each other in matrimony.” She smiled at them. “It is a love hard fought for and won. A love that’s already stood the test of time. A love that’s already bonded them in every way but one. And today, that final bond will form. Anthony, could you begin.”

He nodded and squeezed Ezra’s hand. “I, Anthony James Crowley, take you, Ezra Thomas Fell, as my husband.” He said with a big, toothy grin and all the love he could manage. In an instant, Ezra’s eyes watered, and he giggled quietly at the sudden realization that this was real. “I like to think we’ve already been through good times and bad, together and apart, and I like to think that we’ll always do better together. I promise to be open with you, and honest. I promise to listen to your worries and assure you that I will always be with you, and always love you. I vow to be there with you regardless of what’s to come, and won’t leave you again until the end of my days.”

Ezra smiled a bit wider, having thought he’d already reached the limits of his joy. He had to clear his throat in order to speak, and even still his emotions got in the way.

“I, Ezra Thomas Fell,” He began, his voice a touch rough, “Take you, Anthony James Crowley, to be my husband. I promise to be with you in good times and in bad, for better and for worse. I promise to be open, and honest with you. .” He said, getting a quiet chuckle out of the adults in the room, including the other groom. “ I promise to listen to your worries, and assure you that I will always love you, and keep loving you until the end of my days, and to remain by your side until that day comes.”

“Sickness and in health, all that lovely stuff,” Crowley added.

“Indeed,” Ezra said, those in attendance chuckling.

“May we have the rings,” The officiant said, glancing down with a smile at each of the boys.

Warlock and Adam each produced a ring from their inner breast pockets where their fathers’ had secured them earlier in the day. 

Ezra took the ring from Adam, a black tungsten band with a strip of deep red in the middle. He took Anthony’s left hand in his and slipped the ring on his finger. 

Anthony took the simple, antique gold ring from Warlock, then slipped it with only a slight struggle over Ezra’s knuckle until it rested on his finger.

“If there is no lawful impediment as to why these two should not be joined?” The officiant asked, and Ezra smirked as the room was almost still with silence for the approximately three seconds the officiant allowed to pass before she said, “then I declare these two officially wed. You may now kiss your husband.”

“Bought damn time,” Anthony said before taking Ezra’s face in both hands and kissing him soundly to the applause of everyone. Ezra smiled, feeling Anthony do the same against his lips before the pair of them broke out into elated laughter.

They stole a couple more quick pecks before turning to the many mobiles pointed toward them. 

Anathema was loudly whooping even as she leaned dangerously far over the table with her arms extended, Newton having wrapped an arm awkwardly around her waist to keep her from falling over. Bea and Dagon the next table over seemed to pretend like they didn’t know her.

Marjorie dabbed her eyes while Lucas, who sat beside her, smiled on. Richard wolf-whistled much to Oscar’s dismay, Isabel looking around the room and clapping with everyone else.

Christine’s little one was doing the same, her husband laughing at their child. Neil was with his fiance, and Tony and Terry sat behind the table Anthony had marked for Ezra’s family who was no longer with them. 

Erica, surprisingly, opted to sit with Gabriel, who smiled solemnly but genuinely for them at the back of the room. 

Scattered about were their co-workers, and while it would have been nice to smile and wave at them all, Ezra was suddenly overwhelmed with the need to look at his husband.

So he did. He smiled up at Anthony, stealing a quick kiss before one of their sons demanded his attention. He turned, understanding that Warlock wanted to be momentarily picked up, so he did, holding him with one arm while Anthony held Adam the same way before the couple reached for each other.

They pressed their foreheads together, and Ezra let the overwhelming happiness within him bubble out in a laugh he felt mirrored in his husband.

And bloody hell was that a word he’d never tire of.

~C~

It wasn’t late, but the evening night was still growing darker, and the fairy lights hanging from the ceiling had begun to glow just a little brighter, a little warmer. The conversations in the room were light, cheerful, and possibly tinged with too much wine from many of the guests.

Though Crowley didn’t see it.

He was outside with his husband, laying on the hood of the Bentley in the deserted parking lot, looking up at the sky though the stars were barely visible. Apart from the sun having not completely set, there were clouds moving in, obscuring the view.

“Took us far too long to get here.” He said, his hand laced with Ezra’s, his finger rubbing the ring he’d put there earlier.

“But get here we did,” Ezra replied, turning to look at him, love and joy still sparking those gorgeous blue eyes. “I never would have thought that day, all those years ago, that the boy who would ask me to his home, to be his friend when I had none, would end up being my husband.”

Crowley hummed in agreement, looking back up at the sky. “Suppose you could say it didn’t go down like a lead balloon, that first conversation.”

“You remembered what you first said to me?” Ezra asked with a smile.

“Sorta hard to forget,” He grumbled. “Was kicking myself forever for saying something so utterly ridiculous. Thought I was cool and mature. Just sounded like an idiot.”

“Yes, but you became my idiot, and that’s all that matters in the end,” Ezra said as he squeezed Crowley’s hand.

“You’re such a bastard sometimes, you know that? Why’d I marry you, anyway? Sign up for a whole lifetime of this abuse.”

“Because you love me,” Ezra said, grin growing wider.

“Yeah, suppose I do,” He said with a grin, finally looking back at Ezra. “Love you to the end of the world.”

“Perhaps even beyond.” Ezra agreed.

They shared a long, longing gaze before turning back to the sky.

“We’re going to have to go back in soon. Kiss the boys, let them know we’re heading off.” Crowley said, not really wanting to do any of that yet painfully excited to at the same time.

“Did you make reservations for breakfast in the morning?” Ezra asked with a curious lilt.

“No,” Crowley hummed, smirking. “For dinner tomorrow night. Was fairly certain we weren’t going to be getting out of bed until at least noon. Honeymoon and all.”

“We’re nearly forty.” Ezra reminded him. 

“You say that like it’s supposed to mean something,” Crowley replied. “And why must you say that? Almost forty? Such a dirty word.”

“It’s an age, and we’re nearing it.” Ezra countered. “I hardly think-”

_Splat!_

The heavy drop of rain landed right between their heads, and Ezra and Crowley turned to look first at it, and then at each other.

“We should probably-”

“Agreed,” Ezra said, and the two men launched off the hood of the Bentley and ran for the doors, just making it under the alcove of the building before the rain began to fall in earnest. 

They stood hand in hand, watching the rainfall for a moment before turning to one another with a smile. After a not-so-quick kiss, they headed inside to say goodnight to the boys, thanks, and “see you when we get back” to their guests, then grab an umbrella to share on their way back to the car.

Only this time, the umbrella they shared was black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Epilogue is about to follow
> 
> Chapter title from "Let's Skip to the Good Part" by He is We


	40. Epilogue

Sometimes Crowley still woke up swearing that the whole thing was a dream. He didn’t know at what point in his life he would wake up, only that it wouldn’t be where he thought he went to sleep.

But on those mornings, when he didn’t dare open his eyes right away, he took stock of his surroundings.

There was usually a warm spot in the bed next to him, if not a warm body. When there wasn’t, the scent that lingered on the sheets or on skin was always the first, and best reassurance that he hadn’t dreamed the last two and a bit years up. And if he still doubted, if he still wasn’t sure he was merely tricking his brain, Crowley would take a moment, feel the weight of the ring on his left hand, and know. 

It was then he would open his eyes, shifting about to face his nightstand where he was always greeted by the framed picture of his and Ezra’s wedding. His husband’s side had one from their family honeymoon, the one they took with the boys during their summer holiday to Paris for crepes and brioche and sightseeing. 

He genuinely didn’t know which photo was his favorite.

“Good morning,” Ezra said, and Crowley felt the weight of his hand touch his shoulder, Ezra’s wedding band a distinctly separate texture though it was equal in warmth.

“Morning,” Crowley mumbled as he rolled over, burying his head against the softness of Ezra’s waist. “Did you sleep?”

“I did,” Ezra assured, the sound of a page turning somewhere above Crowley’s head. “I just found myself waking a bit early and didn’t want to get out of bed.”

“Mmm,” Crowley hummed, slinging an arm around his husband’s waist. “Good.”

They stayed like that for a while, neither moving and while Crowley didn’t fall back asleep, he didn’t move either. He could live forever in moments like this, snuggled into his best friend while he read, the light sound of rain against the windows outside, the quiet stillness of the morning before the ruckus of the day was unleashed.

It was as that thought entered his mind that he heard a door in the hallway open. 

A moment later, their bedroom door did, too, and two sets of feet came over to the bed, one drifting over to Ezra’s side.

“Good morning, my loves.” Ezra greeted the boys, and Crowley felt the weight of the mattress dip down by his feet.

“Is dad sleeping, still?” Adam asked his voice where the dip was.

“No, he’s awake, just lazing,” Ezra replied.

“What are you reading?” Warlock asked from on the other side of Ezra.

“I’m currently re-reading _Pride and Prejudice_ as a refresher. I’m starting it in my class on Monday.”

“Is it one with funny words?” Warlock asked, and Crowley snickered.

“It’s not something you’d get just yet, Lock.” He said, finally opening his eyes. “Few years yet.”

“Sounds like a stupid love story,” Adam said, and Crowley looked at him with a smirk and wink, the very slightest of nods, but he was caught out.

“Do _not_ encourage that sort of thing, Anthony. Otherwise, I’ll start telling them the sort of things you liked to watch when we were young.” Ezra warned, causing the boys to giggle.

“Only ever watched those with you,” Crowley said as he sat up, scooting so Adam could sit beside him. Their bed was big, but they might have to get bigger if these weekend morning family snuggles were something that was going to continue. 

He’d never complain about the lack of space, though.

“Can you continue with Peter Pan, papa?” Warlock asked on the other side of Ezra, already reaching for the book and handing it to him.

“I suppose,” Ezra agreed readily, and Crowley smiled, pressing a kiss to Ezra’s shoulder as he began where they’d left off the weekend before.

They stayed like that, the four of them until their stomachs rumbled to remind them that breakfast was to be had.

~A~

“It hasn’t been quite the same, you know.” Richard was telling them from where he was sprawled out on his and Oscar’s picnic blanket in Saint James Park. “Quality is still there, overall, but it’s lost something about it since you sold it.”

He was, of course, talking about the shop formally known as the Garden in London. Anthony had done a lot of thinking on it, and just after the holidays sold his shares to Gabriel for no more than what he’d bought the shop for. James had done an excellent job abusing his part-ownership and gave plants and flowers away at a fantastically high rate, all with providing no income to the shop. And Anthony, having found he wanted to return to London less and less, and having more and more business come into the Tadfield shop, had decided it was time to walk away. He would have a portable shop to sell from in the city in the summer, during the holidays in which flowers or plants were the usual gifts. 

At least, that had been the plan. Last year sort of put a bit of a pin in that. Many said Anthony had been lucky, giving it up when he had. And some days he might agree, though Ezra knew better. He still mourned that first shop from time to time, but it was better than having James slowly start to drain his profit to nothing.

As far as either of them knew, Gabriel had put a stop to that. It was hard to tell, for every time they’d ask Bea how it was going under the new management, that simply smiled in a wicked sort of way. They didn’t ask much anymore.

“Yeah, well,” Anthony shrugged, popping a blueberry in his mouth while he, too, was sprawled out. “You know where to get the proper goods.”

“We’ve been thinking of moving your way,” Oscar said, and Ezra nearly beamed. Oscar lifted his hands in a placating gesture. “ _T_ _hinking._ I get to work from home more these days, and with Richard not going back to work until Isabel is in primary.”

“Or longer,” Richard smiled. “I may have a publisher interest in my novel, and we’re thinking of adopting again.”

“That’s wonderful,” Ezra said, looking to where Adam and Warlock were currently playing with Isabel. The toddler was giggling wildly, the boys grinning as they pretended to run from her in slow, barely-there steps.

“They would be excellent big brothers.” Richard hinted. 

Ezra grinned, looking down at his husband, knowing he met Anthony’s eyes even behind his sunglasses. Anthony’s mouth curled ever so slightly, and his left hand covered Ezra’s, his wedding ring clinking gently against the winged crest ring on Ezra’s pinky.

“Suppose they might,” He said casually, feeling the gentle vibration of Anthony’s chuckle, and smiling. “But a move to Tadfield, you say?” He changed the subject, Anthony shifting up and sitting to hold him from behind and rest his chin on Ezra’s shoulder.

The summer day lingered on, spent in good company with good food in the cool shade of the trees. Ezra thanked whoever was watching over him, be it a deity, his father, his mother, or his sister, for making him find Anthony again. For giving him a chance to have a future that was filled with love and hope and family with his best friend.

He closed his eyes a moment and lent back against Anthony’s shoulder, and if he listened really hard, he thought it was possible he heard the lovely song of a nightingale somewhere off in the distance.

He couldn’t be sure, though. The boys were being rather loud.

They really will make fantastic older brothers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to say thank you for reading, and giving this AU a chance. As I said back in the beginning, this is a big step away from the AUs I usually write. As it is, before I got the version you all got to read, I had started a few different beginnings, one where the boys were 11, one where they were the same age. The beginning when they met was supposed to be another story completely, but I'd never finished it, and it became part of this.  
> The What-ifs will come out later this week, and three of them have already been written to completion. As I said before, they will be small(ish), with only a couple being meatier. Each could probably be carried on into another full AU, so I had to tame them down.  
> That being said, if you saw the outcome different, if you had a what-if that didn't make the cut, you have my full permission to write it, or draw it, or whatever strikes your fancy. I would love to see it.
> 
> Also: A huge thank you to [Literation .](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Literarion/pseuds/Literarion) for both recording a wonderful podfic of this fic as well as letting me know when I didn't catch some incredibly stupid mistakes.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Angel In My Arms, At Last](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25632409) by [Phantomstardemon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phantomstardemon/pseuds/Phantomstardemon)
  * [[Podfic] It Was Always You](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27672082) by [Literarion](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Literarion/pseuds/Literarion)
  * [Father and Child](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28221108) by [CatofApocalypse](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CatofApocalypse/pseuds/CatofApocalypse)




End file.
